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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25390747">The Relic</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noof44/pseuds/Noof44'>Noof44</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mummy (1999), The Mummy Returns (2001)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action, Action/Adventure, Adventure, Adventure &amp; Romance, Ancient Egypt, Destiny, Egyptology, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Family, Fate, Fate &amp; Destiny, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Magic, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Occult, Post-The Mummy, Post-The Mummy Returns, Romance, Variations on Ancient Egyptian Religion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:21:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>55,805</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25390747</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noof44/pseuds/Noof44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lysandra "Andy" Elliot made a passion of her late grandfather's work to protect and preserve ancient history. An old friend of Jonathan Carnahan, he is sought out when a 3rd attempt to resurrect Imotep's soul is underway for her knowledge and understanding to help thwart the cult's plans and prevent his resurrection. Along the way she uncovers secrets of her own family, dangerous plots, and the dire significance of a scar she has kept secret since she was seven years old. </p>
<p>Will she live to see the success of her friends, or will her own demons bring her demise? Can the rituals and practices she learned by her aunt after her grandfather's passing help her company defeat Imotep's cultists and protect the world of the living from the wrath of the dead?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ardeth Bay/Original Character(s), Ardeth Bay/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Chapter 1</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The music was fair to listen to, despite the awful singer cawing across the pub, and the drink that sat half-forgotten on the table was by far not the worst scotch ever made. She wasn’t much for the thick pipe and cigar smoke that threatened to choke her, but that was expected this time of night. It still should have been a good night for the American woman who sat secluded in the corner, all things considered, but she couldn’t escape the tired frown that had settled on her face. It had been a long couple of weeks that all added up to a waste of time and empty hands, and the disappointment that she felt was worn like a physical accessory. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She let her head fall against the wall behind her as the band started up another song, and the singer began belting even louder. She was tempted to pull the scarf she wore to keep her hair from falling into her face down over her eyes and hide from the world, just to escape the annoyance of her own terrible mood. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The day had been the sort of day where things went wrong from the moment she opened her eyes. Her hair insisted on remaining both tangled and in her eyes and so she had tamed her mane with a silk scarf and a few too many pins. The strap of her shoe had broken and was barely held together with a string that tied the fastener closed. She had traveled from the American West to London in search of a book only to find it was already gone. The only thing left to do of her journey was to drink away the bitterness of her failed venture and wait for a few days when she would be leaving to return home. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I must say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> is quite an interesting book you’ve got there.” the voice that interrupted her brooding was unnecessarily smooth-talking, and when she opened her eyes the man it belonged to had already taken an uninvited seat at her table. The tall thin Englishman lounged cooly across from her with his arm draped over the back of his chair and offered a suave smile upon making eye contact. “You know, I happen to have quite the background in Egyptology. I’ve been all over Egypt, going into some of the most remote places you could imagine.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, really?” She grinned and rested her hand over the book he had referenced, an old journal of her grandfather’s that had been decorated with a painting of an Egyptian scarab. “That is </span>
  <em>
    <span>fascinating</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Quite,” he winked, and leaned closer to her over the table, “so tell me, what brings you to this fine establishment?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I was just hoping to find an expert in Egyptology.” She batted her lashes sarcastically and took a drink of her now room-temperature scotch but he didn’t seem to notice her response was satirical. Instead of leaving in annoyance as she had intended, he raised his glass and introduced himself with another playboy smile, “Jonathan Carnahan. What do you know of the mummy’s curse?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>While she couldn’t pick a part of his stories that she believed less, his having saved the world from the resurrected mummy of a cursed priest, him having a background of incalculable wealth, or that he had single-handedly disarmed an army hell-bent on destroying the world. There were parts of his stories, though, that were familiar to the studies she had grown up with and she had to admit that it was fun to exchange ancient legends over warm drinks and bad music. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>By the time they stood to leave the pub, the band had long gone silent and the sun was threatening to light the sky over London. She stood and secured her bag of books over her shoulder and felt the world tilt around her, quickly grasping the table to steady herself. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, surely you won’t leave me without your name?” He slurred his question and quickly stood to meet her but the world must have tilted just as much for him because he stumbled forward into her and spilled what was left of her drink onto her skirt. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Lysandra,” she giggled and reached out to steady him, half using his shoulder to support her weight as well. She laughed more as he slurred his attempt of repeating her name, but it was a desperate failure and he knew it. “Lysss-andy-rah, beautiful name, that.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She laughed a warm goodbye and turned to make her way for the door but Jonathan followed with her, stumbling into her once more before they could reach the door. He nearly sent them both to the floor, but both caught themselves and succumbed to a wave of laughter before attempting to continue their attempt of leaving the pub. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I couldn’t call myself a gentleman if I allowed such a fine lady to walk alone through such dangerous streets,” he announced as they stepped into the early morning sidewalks of London. She tilted her head as he supported himself on a lamppost, still trying his best suave smile for her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I couldn’t call myself a good person if I let you loose like this, either,” she snickered and held out her hand to take his arm. She gave directions to the hotel she stayed in and allowed him to escort her to her room in hopes that he would stay and sleep off his drunkenness before venturing back into the world. As much as he had flashed his wealth and accomplishments to her, she worried that he would get himself robbed or worse in his state, and was thankful when she had returned from dressing in her nightclothes to find him snoring in a chair. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She spent the next few days together as he showed her his favorite haunts. The laughter, drinking, gambling, and occasional fight or two, brought what would have been a wasted venture for her to one of the most interesting and entertaining trips she had ever taken. It was like the two had been friends since childhood. She shared with him stories of her life, and her studies, and showed him things she kept secret from most people, and he only reacted with fascination and interest but never judgement. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She was heartbroken to see the end of their time together when the day came for her to leave London for home again but thought about that week often as the years passed and wrote often in the beginning but the letters had slowed and eventually stopped entirely with the passing of time. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She sat in her small cabin tucked away from town on the edge of the woods and organized her small library of antique writings. Her house could be considered by some a small museum of artifacts and collected treasures, but she kept to herself enough that her collection was one of the best-kept secrets in the West. She liked it that way. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Some things don’t belong on display, some secrets are meant to be kept and we should respect them.”  </span>
  </em>
  <span>Her grandfather’s words played through her thoughts as she worked, continuing his work in his memory to find sacred relics and keep them from being put on display like a circus sideshow attraction. She had become as passionate about his work as he had been in life and felt a sense of him with her whenever she worked with the artifacts she collected. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The sudden silence around her cabin caught her attention and she quickly closed the cupboards and cabinets that held her treasures. She had learned early to respect and observe natural signs, and so far any sudden silence of wildlife meant someone was nearby. More often than not it was someone hunting and she would politely request they leave her property and find their meat somewhere else, but sometimes it was disgruntled and superstitious townsfolk coming for a less-than-friendly chat and that took a little more effort to be rid of. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She had yet to need to fire the shotgun that rested against her hearth, and hoped she never would, but kept it ready nonetheless and waited to see if there would be a knock at her door. She had hoped that living so far from town, in a cabin without a road big enough to drive to, she would be able to live unbothered. She had been successful for the most part, but moments such as this when she sat watching the door, she considered moving into a tent even farther in the woods. She had friends who lived that way, but she had no understanding of how to keep the tent standing when she had tried to stay with them and preferred a sturdy structure for her shelter. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her guest’s knock sounded more like a battering ram than a man’s knuckles, and her heart sank. “Can I help you?” she called out through the latched wooden door and looked toward her hearth by the window. If she reached for her gun, she would have to walk past the open window, and if this stranger did plan on unsavory business, that may put her in more danger than she was already in. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The man knocked, or pounded rather, again but this time demanded entry to her home on “Official business of the law”. There it was, the red flag she had hoped not to see. If he was truly a lawman, he would gain entry regardless of her permission, as the last two officers who came knocking had done to search for evidence of claims made against her. If he was lying, anyone impersonating an officer of the law to gain entry to someone’s home with that much urgency, clearly was up to no good. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Just a moment, I’m coming!” she called out and quietly closed the covers that hid her most valuable possessions. Initially, these cupboards had been designed to smuggle bootleg alcohol and keep the bottles hidden from anyone who didn’t know where to look, but they made great hiding places for old writings and artifacts. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She had just barely finished her task and began to make her way to the door when her houseguest kicked it open, breaking the old door from its hinges in a crash of splintered wood accompanying her startled scream. She expected him to come after her, but instead, he set to work flipping furniture and emptying her cupboards of dishes and jars of herbs and spices. There was another man with him who restrained her as she protested their raid, and soon the first man’s hand was around her throat. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Where is the treasure?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She tried to question his demand, but being strangled kept her attention on hoping for survival. Tears stung her eyes and fear took her over while she struggled and kicked. She closed her eyes against her terror as more men came in shouting over the chaos in her once-peaceful home. It wasn’t until the deafening ring of pistol fire startled her to freeze that her eyes opened again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She collapsed to the ground and scrambled backward away from the body of the man who held her as he fell lifelessly beside her, and pulled the shotgun against her chest to take trembling aim at the men who stood over the bodies in her house. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Get out of my house,” she warned. She hoped to sound confident and intimidating, but instead, she coughed between words and her voice wavered on the edge of tears. The scent of gunpowder stung her nose from the shots that had already been fired, and the man who held the pistol barely moved at her threat. He looked like any other man from town, clean-cut, dressed in brown trousers and a classy light jacket that she assumed hid the holster for his gun. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His friend, however, could not have been from anywhere near her home. Clad in all black, loose-fitting garb that she would expect to see in a remote desert rather than western America, armed with a sword, and tattooed across his face, she couldn’t tell if she was curious about him or terrified of him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You wanna put the gun down so we can talk?” the gunman asked as her eyes darted between him and his partner, but she shook her head rapidly and quickly turned his aim to him when he tried to take a step closer. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“N-not really,” she answered quickly. Her breath still came in quick, panicked breaths and her hands shook so heavily she had a difficult time holding onto the shotgun while she kept it pointed at the stranger. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s all right! Andy! We’re all friends!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her heart stopped in her chest at the familiar voice, and her gun fell to the ground as the tall, thin Englishman pushed his way between the two strangers to intervene before anyone got shot. “We’re here to help.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She tried several times to reply, but only a few stunned and wordless noises came through her lips as she stared in disbelief at her old friend who held his hand out to assist her to her feet. Though she accepted his offer she pulled away from him and stood short of breath with her hands at her hips, still staring at him a moment until her thoughts had caught up with her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What the hell is going on, Jonathan?” she demanded finally, “You stop writing, I don’t hear from you in a year, and now you come to my house and destroy the place? Almost kill me? Kill two men in my floor!” Her questions quickly escalated to aggravated shouting while she pointed an accusatory finger toward him. She attempted a calming breath but to no avail, and finally turned to slap him across the face with everything she had. “And </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> was for that poker game!” she added furiously. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I deserved that,” he admitted earnestly and held his hands up in surrender, “but we haven’t time for this argument now. We need your help,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“With </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” she demanded as two more strangers entered her home. She looked past Jonathan and his comrades to see a dark-haired woman standing near her doorway. Behind her was a little boy, who couldn’t be older than ten, peeking around to watch the scene. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jonathan took a deep breath and locked eyes with her, radiating determination. “There is a group of cultists trying to summon the soul of an ancient cursed priest to reincarnate into their leader’s body so that they can destroy and reshape the world, and we need your help to stop them, and save the world from the mummy again.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He spoke so quickly and all in one breath that she hardly caught his answer, but immediately broke into laughter. He had told some elaborate tales during their time together in London, but that had to have been the most ridiculous thing he had said to her, sober or otherwise. However, she was the only one laughing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, oh god,” she frowned suddenly, “you’re serious.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This is not a matter to be joked about. If they succeed in this ritual, there will be no way of stopping the creature from ending all life on earth.” The dark-headed swordman responded gravely without a hint of humor in his voice. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lysandra shook her head in disbelief, hands on her hips once again, and bit down on the corner of her bottom lip. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There are things about this that I know you know more about than any of us. If anyone can help us this time-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This time?” she cut Jonathan off and snapped her gaze up to watch him nervously rub the back of his neck.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We have fought him twice before,” the woman answered quietly, “and we were able to stop him, but this time they aren’t looking for his body to bring him back. There’s so much beyond anything we have learned, and we don’t have time to begin learning now.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lysandra shook her head and pushed past everyone to her hearth and began cleaning up the fallen and broken jars from her cupboard, comforted by the rattling and rustling from her work and the scent of the fallen spices. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, Andy, besides haven’t you always wanted to see Egypt? To go on that great adventure?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jonathan, you’re asking me to do something impossible. Magic, and curses, and bringing back the dead, it’s all fairytales.”</span>
  <span></span><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t believe that,” he argued stubbornly against her denial of their request and handed her another fallen jar, “if you did, you wouldn’t have gone all the way to London just to read a book that time.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She took the jar from his hand and slammed it down into its cupboard and stared into the half-empty shelves in front of her while thinking in so many directions she wasn’t sure of what she was even thinking of anymore. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s say this is all real,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s all real,” the first man cut in, still holding his pistol in hand. She shot him a quick glance but continued to speak to Jonathan. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s say it is real, why would I want to get involved in something like this? Anyone trying to end the world will have guards, soldiers, they’ll want to stop you. I don’t need any more people trying to kill me, I get enough of that from town.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Because you want to do the right thing, and protect secrets that need to be protected,” he answered seriously, choosing his words carefully from the more serious conversations they had shared in London. “Besides,” he gestured to the bodies that still lay on the floor of her home, “it looks to me like you’ve already got them trying to kill you. Might as well face it old girl, we’re in for an adventure.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She turned to argue again but was cut off by another sudden silence from the wildlife around her home. Instead, she crossed the room and pushed the sword-carrying stranger aside to unlatch one of her hidden cabinets. “Help me pack, then.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She spent no time loading as many artifacts and books as she could into the few bags she had in her home. Things that she thought may be of use, things that she worried would be a danger in the hands of whoever sought to bring this mummy back to life, all of it went into the bag. By the time she had finished packing, they were loaded up with scrolls, statues, herbs bells, cloths, gemstones, and candles enough to conduct any number of rituals. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Someone’s coming up the path,” the woman announced worriedly and pulled the boy into the cabin. Jonathan moved to the back door to try and open it, but the door barely moved. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Window,” Lysandra announced, pointing to the open window beside the door he still fought to open, “a tree fell against the door a while back, I just never got around to cutting it up. We can get through the window.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She wasted no time leading her guests out of her cabin and into the woods behind her home, but where she had begun to walk the others quickened their pace, soon fleeing as her cabin was set to flames. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“By the way, this is my brother-in-law, Rick,” Jonathan announced as they ran, earning a sarcastic wave from the man who led their run. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Evie,” the woman introduced herself with a friendly smile as she ran with the boy’s hand in hers, “and this is Alex. That’s Ardeth, a good friend of ours.” She introduced on the swordman’s behalf when he did not give his name, as his focus was on readying himself for a fight alongside Rick.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nice to meet you, I’m Lysandra. Jonathan calls me ‘Andy’. Turn left at that tree with the broken branches hanging down! We can follow the river to town, but it’ll be easier to hide down there and I know more people who could help us. Family of mine!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Rick took her direction and turned sharp, nearly sliding down a muddy slope to the bank of a narrow river with the others in tow. Lysandra took lead from him and guided them to the cave where she hoped they could hide from whoever had burned her cabin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hadn’t expected to find herself being hunted through the woods when she had woken up that morning. She certainly hadn’t expected to be reunited with her old friend, either, but she hoped that these were not bad omens of impending doom. With any luck, they would find their way to town within the next day and her new friends could lead her on this great adventure Jonathan had promised. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Until then, sitting silently behind a rock formation in a dark cave beside Jonathan, and his sister and nephew, while the other two men took defensive positions to keep guard would have to do. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jonathan, if you get me killed out here, I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life,” she muttered through gritted teeth while they listened to the search that had come to the opening of the cave. Even Rick and Ardeth ducked down and held their breath with weapons at the ready in case a fight was needed, but their assailants continued on their way, assuming the cave empty.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I have no intentions of that, Andy, you still owe me two bottles of scotch and a bottle of wine.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Even in the dark, their party could see the glare she sent from the corner of her eye, but she held in her retort from fear they would still be discovered. He knew that her silence did not mean his victory, but chose to revel in the fact that he had the last word nonetheless as they waited to hear that it was safe to continue on their way. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>After walking along the riverbank until the sun had begun to sink below the mountains, Lysandra was relieved to hear that her companions thought it best to stop for the night. She wasn't sure who was more relieved to rest their legs, her or Alex, but both gracelessly plopped down to rest the moment permission was given. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The scent of rain was in the air and the leaves had begun to flip in the breeze earlier in the evening, but it was a fair bet that any unfriendly weather would pass them by given how active the birds still were in the trees around them. Lysandra felt out of place as they others immediately set to work creating a small camp, with her only contribution to be given being information about reading the weather, or telling whether or not this plant or that could be eaten. She knew her wildlife, but actual survival in the wilderness was not something she considered to be her strength. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woods were still a symphony of night songs of insects, owls, and other creatures who called the moonlight wilderness home, contributing to her confidence that the rain would hold off. While the strangers who whisked her from her home remained on their guard for the dangers there, Lysandra was as comfortable beneath the trees as she was her thatched cottage roof. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uncle Jon says there are packs of wolves, and huge bears, that will rip us apart here. He said that even bullets won’t stop them!” Alex announced while they watched the others set up camp for the night, eyeing the shadows with all the wide-eyed caution of a nervous child. “Is that true?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, he’s not wrong, they do live out here. This is wild country, but it’s their home, too. We’re guests in the woods.” She shrugged lightly and took him by the shoulder to guide him to sit on a fallen tree with her instead of the ground. “The thing with wolves, and bears, and all other critters, is if we’re good to them they’re good to us. They don’t like people much. We stay to ourselves and so will they, nothin’ to worry about. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As far as not even a bullet can stop them, I wouldn’t know. I’ve never tried to kill one, but people do hunt them, so if it comes down to it, I’m sure your father will be able to take one down.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not only that, but the fire will keep them away. We’ll be safe here.” Evie added confidently with a gentle kiss to the top of her son’s head after joining them at their seats and leaving the men to finish getting said fire going. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know how much the fire will do to keep them away, but Jonathan’s mouth sure does the trick for most things,” Lysandra snickered as the man himself could be heard rambling on about legends of mountain outlaw treasures, and left Evie to comfort her son’s fears to see what she could do to help the men with their campsite, if anything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Jonathan began later that evening as they all sat around the fire, “she did her best, but the woman could hardly make it to the door, so I took it upon myself to escort her safely.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra chortled and tossed a pebble at him from across the fire as she sat a fair distance from the flames. “Some memory you have, but you did drink enough to drown a fish… it’s no wonder your memory is skewed.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had been sharing stories for the better part of the evening when Evie asked how the two knew each other, and of course, Jonathan’s side of the story painted him as the chivalrous hero protecting the damsel in distress, and she couldn’t resist the attack to his ego by sharing the truth. In some way, it felt like being back in London all over again. The familiarity she shared with Jonathan translated to the rest of his family as well, to an extent, and made getting to know one another much easier. She had a difficult time reading Ardeth, but the few contributions he had made to their conversation were friendly enough, but he was far from as open as their counterparts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did trip on my way to the door, but that’s because he was stumbling around drunk as can be, and knocked into me.” She turned her attention back to Jonathan and pointed an accusatory finger, leaning in to emphasize her point, “And you didn’t escort me safely to my room, you stumbled down the street behind me and I let you stay because I felt bad for you. You’re no different than any other sick animal I find in the wild.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh I won’t stand for these lies!” he shouted dramatically,  and rose to his feet to walk off toward the darkness surrounding their camp. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Watch for the bears!” she reminded with a smirk, earning a chuckle from both Rick and Ardeth when Jonathan stopped short and begrudgingly returned to the safety of the fire. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quiet fell over their group for a few moments while each person occupied themselves with their own thoughts and Jonathan continued to stew over his stories being playfully corrected by Lysandra at every turn.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, the silence seemed to be too much for Rick’s contentment, and curiosity caught the best of him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, Jonathan says you’re a witch,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shot Jonathan a sharp glance and took a deep nervous breath before frantically turning to face the man beside her. “It isn’t like that,” her answer was so quick that all four words blended into one, “I know medicine, I work with herbs and healing, but it isn’t about evil, or curses, or devils and demons at all. It’s all about embracing love, and the good in the world, and protecting that. Protecting the good. I-I’m not an evil person, I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Relax, no one here is going on a witch hunt,” Evie reassured warmly and nudged husband pointedly until he muttered an apology, but Lysandra shook her head and gestured around the camp with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That is </span>
  <em>
    <span>literally </span>
  </em>
  <span>what we are doing, isn’t it though? You asked for me to help you hunt a clan of people trying to do magic?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A cult” Rick corrected defensively, “trying to resurrect an evil mummified priest, to destroy the world, </span>
  <em>
    <span>again. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Not exactly the same thing as crushing some leaves to get over a cold.” Rick finished his argument without looking up at her, but his tone seemed genuine enough. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She tilted her head inquisitively and turned her attention to Jonathan once again. “Why did you come for my help, anyway? We knew each other for a week, at best? What made you think ‘oh let’s run to the other side of the whole world and find this woman I met in a bar once’ to stop these guys?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jonathan cleared his throat awkwardly and nodded toward her pack of books that lay near the edge of their camp. “There’s more to it this time, and I recognized some of the symbols from my sister’s research from the book you showed me. There are stories I remembered you telling, as well, that fit right along with it all. I thought if anyone could help us solve this puzzle, it would be worth tracking you down.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She bit down on the corner of her lip and looked over his shoulder through the darkness toward the home she had left. “I can do my best, but I’m no scholar. I know what granddad taught me, and what I studied after, but…” she trailed off and held her arms up in a shrug, shaking her head at her own loss of words. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That is all we ask,” Evie nodded firmly, and put an end to their uncomfortable discussion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once again they sat in the quiet of the night, watching the flames flicker and listening to the sounds of the woods around them. It wasn’t until Alex woke and voiced his worry for their safety again that they were pulled from their quiet contentment. This time it wasn’t bears, or wolves, or wild animals that had him afraid but threats of a more unseen nature. Threats that until just a day ago, Lysandra believed to be nothing but stories told to frighten or amaze children. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While his parents did their best to calm his nerves and Ardeth watched in silence, Jonathan cleared his throat and stared Lysandra down expectantly. “What,” she demanded flatly, but both knew that she already knew what he wanted from her. She shook her head and ignored his silent demand and continued to watch the O’Connells comfort their son but it was obvious he wouldn’t be sleeping again any time soon. Jonathan cleared his throat and nodded toward Lysandra’s bags again, this time earning a sharp “Fine” in response as she stalked across the camp to her bags and pulled out a myriad of supplies to bring back to the fire with her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tied a small bundle of herbs together, singing quietly as she worked while the others watched curiously, making certain that Alex was able to watch everything she did and sprinkled dirt from the ground over her creation when she had finished. She held it up for him to see, and leaned just close enough to the fire to light the edge of her bundle over the flames with extreme caution, letting it burn for just a moment before she quickly blew the torch out and handed the bundle to Alex once it had cooled enough.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There,” she smiled happily, “anything that would want to hurt you, or anyone else here, won’t be able to come near that. Not while I’m around to keep it going. You keep it with you, all right?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” His voice was full of curiosity and skepticism as he turned the bundle of herbs and sticks over in his hands, inspecting everything about it while mindful of the burnt edges. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Little of this, little of that,” she shrugged dismissively, “the old women I grew up around made them when I was little to keep bad dreams, and monsters away. You take the magic plants and tie them up nice and tight with the strong plants, and say a good prayer, or sing a strong song, and wake it up with a little fire, put all your love and everything good into it, and bad things just don’t want to be around that much good.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes lit up while giving him her explanation, and her smile grew after seeing the way he excitedly showed it off to his parents and compared it to other legends and forms of magic he had learned from their work, happily accepting her gift. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he settled down again beside his parents to sleep, Lysandra sank back against the fallen tree she had claimed as a bench earlier and pulled her skirt around her legs. Thankful that her creation was well-received by their party, she was still apprehensive of how she would be treated after her display. Part of her regretted showing some of her practice to Jonathan to help cure his hangover years prior, but part of her reveled in the freedom to do such things without being condemned to eternal damnation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had lost herself in her anxious internal argument so much that she argued herself to sleep. She only barely woke to someone putting their jacket over her shoulders and easing her down to lay beside the fallen tree instead of leaving her to sleep sitting upright, and half muttered, half whined an argument for whoever it was to keep their jacket for themselves but it came out as incoherent babbling that was quietly shushed until she gave in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time the sun and morning birds dragged her to consciousness, every muscle in her body seemed to protest her choice of sleeping position. The others only barely seemed to do better, but the complaints were expressed in shared misery while she groggily pointed out which plants could be eaten for breakfast before they began the rest of their trek to town. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> The rest of their journey through the wilderness was uneventful, something everyone was thankful for as they reached the borders of town. “You go on, I’ll catch up,” Lysandra announced awkwardly, and stopped just as they stepped onto the main road. Much to her displeasure the others stopped with her and turned to face her expectantly for an explanation, which she hadn’t intended to give, and no matter of trying to convince them to go one without her had any impact on their stance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I should have known you’d all be as stubborn as Jonathan. Look, my house just got burned down, and even though most people are probably throwing a party over it, I do have a few friends here that I want to be sure know I’m okay. I’ll catch up.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And how do you plan on finding us?” Jonathan’s demand had clearly been a shared concern for the rest of their party, but Lysandra pursed her lips and gestured between him and Ardeth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your mouth, for one,” she started, “and second, and I mean this with as much respect as you deserve, he’s not exactly hard to miss!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’d be surprised.” Rick’s joke earned an amused nod from his friend, but Lysandra only frowned and eyed him down in the same staring contest of a silent argument she would have had with Jonathan. He was, however, a much more stubborn adversary, and she was forced to relent with a defeated roll of her eyes. “Fine, let’s go.” She didn’t wait for anyone’s replies or to see if they were following before she walked off around the outskirts of town to a broken down shack of a house guarded by a scraggly old dog, more bone than muscle, missing its left eye and ear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The dog lifted his head and snarled a vicious warning the moment they crossed his border, despite his decrepit nature. “Easy, boy. They’re all right I think, ‘cept Jonathan… you can eat him.” She glanced back at the others to see Rick guarding his wife, who guarded their son, and Jonathan looking more offended than she had ever seen him. Alex looked more interested in the beast than afraid, but she still had a difficult time reading Ardeth’s expressions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s Sideways Jack, Linda’s old dog,” she explained lightly, “he won’t hurt you unless you give him a reason. So, y’know, hands off the guns and such, don’t threaten Linda. We’ll all be fine.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What happened to him?” Alex questioned, still staring in awe as the ricketty dog rose to his feet and sidestepped closer to Lysandra. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shot in the head as a pup. That’s why he walks sideways, can’t see on his left side!” The voice that answered from the half-collapsed porch was gravely and horace, but cheerful enough to ease some of their concern regarding the guard dog. The old woman who shuffled to join them was a good match for her guardian, just as rickety with flyaway gray hair that stuck out like straw from its bundle on top of her head. She used her broom for a walking stick and walked shoeless through the yard to stand beside Lysandra who instinctively offered her arm to steady herself with. “Sweet as a summer song unless you start a fight. These strangers causing you trouble? I saw the smoke, figured something mighta happened to you, Mr. Grant said it was your place that burned. I’m blessed to see you standing here, Sprout.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sprout?” Jonathan’s snickering earned matching glares from Lysandra and the old woman, but neither acknowledged him further. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m just fine Old Oak, we got out all right. That man there shot a man who tried to choke me to death.” Lysandra smiled while Linda hobbled away from her to stand toe-to-toe with Rick, dramatically inspecting him and even going so far as to feel his forearms to check his strength. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s the only one that helped you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, his friend helped,” Lysandra tried not to laugh, but couldn’t contain her childish giggle as the old woman moved her attention to Ardeth and gave him the same going over. Both men were wildly uncomfortable with her treatment, but that didn’t stop her from going as far as reaching up to touch the tattoos on Ardeth’s face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Linda!” Lysandra gasped with a barely-disguised laugh of shock as she caressed the man’s cheek while inspecting the tattoos with a resonating “hmmm”.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you, boy, what did you do to help?” Alex took a step back as the old woman bent down and reached for him, but she only winked at him and straightened again before giving Jonathan a sidelong glance. “My Sprout brings home a gunslinger,  a pirate, a pup and who are you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jonathan Carnahan, Ma’am,” Jonathan nervously held his hand out for his introduction but she stared blankly at it before smacking him in the ankles with her broom and walking back toward her house. “I know about you,” she grumbled as she left him behind, only pausing to smile at Evie and greet her with “Lovely to meet you, darling, you have a lovely pup.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra offered her arm once again to steady her as she led the others back into her shack, Sideways Jack shuffling along beside them to the best of his crooked ability. It was a single-roomed place with a dirt floor, straw-stuffed bed, a small table beside the hearth, and about seven chairs all of different homemade styles littered around the room. Lysandra couldn’t resist taking a deep breath to take in the scent of boiled cinnamon and orange peels, Linda’s favorite remedy for all aches, pains, and illnesses. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m glad to see you finally made some friends other than the dog, Sprout,” Linda teased, waving for everyone to claim a seat wherever they felt comfortable, “but I get the feeling this isn’t a friendly visit. Too many bags for that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Lysandra frowned sadly, “Linda, they need my help with something, and I’m going to have to go away for a while to help them, but I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye first and letting you know I’m okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I appreciate you thinkin’ about me, but I already knew you’d be leaving. Saw it in the tea.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Linda, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn’t even know I was leaving.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Linda turned away from her hearth and smiled slyly, pointing toward Lysandra with the spoon from her kettle, “You don’t like tea,” she smirked as if it were the most obvious answer to unasked questions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now, I see a lot of things come and go, been around as long as dirt’s been underfoot, I saw my little Sprout coming up that road years ago and now I get to watch her walk back down it. You take care of her, now, or I’ll send the dog after ya. He might only bite from one side, but he’s got all his teeth an’ he’s fast as hell.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll take good care of her, ma’am,” Jonathan assured, but she cut him off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was talking to the gunslinger and the pirate. You just keep that bottle out of your hands, I don’t see any weapons on you. Must be a pup still like the boy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Books will only get you so far, Sprout, but you’ll learn a thing or two,” Linda nodded with a bittersweet smile and rummaged around a trunk beside her bed before turning back with a large pendant necklace made of brass and carved wood to look like a tree that grew from roots into a rising sun, “who knows, you might grow up and find a sprout of your own. Gonna need this for that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Linda that’s yours,” Lysandra’s voice wavered as tears built in her eyes, but Linda pushed the pendant into her hand and pushed her toward the door. “You’re acting like I won’t see you again; I’m coming back when we’re done.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh now, there’s no way I know that this’ll be our last visit; I haven’t finished making my tea yet.” Linda joked and began her round giving each member of their party a lengthy hug, whether they wanted it or not, and regardless of if they struggled. When she got to Lysandra she grabbed her by the cheeks and pulled her down to kiss her on the head, and then pulled her in for the longest embrace of them all. Lysandra only let go when she had no other choice. “No you better get going, sun’s about to go down. I get the feeling you’re not just going across town to help. Gunslinger has a family to look for, so you watch out for my Sprout, Pirate, and train up these pups so they’re useful!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra nodded and hugged her one last time as she fought against her own tears. “Just for a season, Old Oak,” she smiled sadly, to which Linda patted her back and answered, “Blooms are comin’ Sprout.”  Lysandra stopped on the porch to kneel down and pull Sideways Jack against her in an emotional goodbye of their own before she could follow the others to their hotel room, fighting hard against the ache in her throat that threatened to turn to sobs the entire way, but she kept her head high and kept pace with the others, true to her stubborn nature. She didn’t know what to expect after leaving town, but felt better about beginning this journey to save the world after saying goodbye to Linda.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With the time that had passed since meeting in her cabin, and trekking through the woods to return to town, the rented rooms had sat empty for most of their stay and Lysandra was shocked to find that they would be leaving for Egypt that night. They were quick to pack their things and leave the hotel, and for the second time in their lives she and Jonathan stood silently in the night, waiting for a boat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, this is it, we’re really going to do this?” she asked anxiously.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll give those cultists a good what-for.” Jonathan assured her confidently, but she only seemed to half believe him. She looked forward to seeing Egypt in person, but the severity of their mission was intimidating. Small protection charms, healing prayers, that sort of magic she understood. Resurrecting a cursed soul from the dead to overthrow the living world, that was something unfathomable. She was afraid, excited, saddened, and all around overwhelmed by so much that she half considered throwing herself into the river before their boat arrived. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead, she took a deep breath as their transport came into view and nodded quietly to herself, “I’m going to have to start drinking tea.” </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The beginning of their journey once Lysandra and the others took to the river was spent with her sharing stories and answering questions as the others got to know her better. She didn’t mind the questions, as it wasn’t often that she had the luxury of just sitting and talking to many people outside of Linda’s shack. Better yet, was the luxury of sharing her stories with someone who appreciated the work her grandfather had started, and shared her enthusiasm of Egyptian lore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes lit up while sharing stories and answering questions of how she had grown up in Linda’s care, reminiscing the adventures that they had shared from the time she was Alex’s age.  “Linda knew granddad but no one knew that they were ever friends. There’s still a lot of secrecy there, but she took me in a year after he died, and said it was already arranged between them if anything happened to him that she’d take care of me. She started calling me ‘Sprout’ probably the day we met, I think? I asked her why she wouldn’t call me by my name and she said, ‘Anyone can call a name, it takes a special bond to make a new one; you’re just a sprout, but you’re my sprout until you grow up.’” She mimicked Linda’s voice surprisingly well, much to the amusement of her fellows, and stifled more giggles while continuing her story. “I told her then that I would call her a name for grown-up trees, and asked her for tree names. She pointed at the tree that used to grow in her yard, and said it was an oak, and I asked her how long they live. She said forever, so I told her that her new name was Old Oak, because she would be here forever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I hold onto that, if we’ve learned anything about Linda, I think it’s that she’s too stubborn to die. I can’t imagine a world without her. She sent me to stay with some friends of hers who live out in the woods, they stay in tents and move all around the woods so no one knows where they’re at. If you know how to find them, you will, but otherwise they don’t exist. That’s when we started our special goodbye. I cried, and held onto her as tight as I could, and she promised that just like when trees lose their leaves, she’ll be back after a season. Her friend told me that everything blooms soon, and so I stayed wrapped around Linda’s ankles and begged to know if blooms would be coming soon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I still don’t know where she’d go when she traveled. She always just said ‘business’, but that time she came back carried by another of her friends. They said she had fallen off a bridge, but that she would be fine. She had broken her ribs in the fall. Another time a tree fell on our house - that’s why the porch is broken- she got hurt then too but crawled out and was more bothered by the porch than anything else.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about the dog?” Alex questioned urgently, still enthralled with the haggard old mutt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He was a runt, and the farmer he was born to decided to put him down, but Jack ran off  and the old man only half aimed at him anyway, so he mostly missed and the bullet didn’t do its job. I found him whining and bleeding all over, and picked him up and ran home crying for Linda to help him. She didn’t want to, she was worried he would suffer more if she tried to save him, but I cried and cried, and pleaded with everything in my twelve-year-old soul, so she gave in. He’s as stubborn as she is, and pulled through. He’s a great guard dog. Bit the backside off a man who tried to steal from her not too long ago.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra leaned back against the wall behind her from her chosen place sitting on the floor and sighed, biting the corner of her lip and getting lost in her thoughts for a moment. She had left countless times on business of her own, and leaving was never this hard. She worried that this would be the last time she would be seeing Old Oak and Sideways Jack. Perhaps she wouldn’t survive the journey. Maybe they would be attacked again, and the others wouldn’t be there to save her again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her head spun with what-if after what-if. What if something happened to Alex? What if she had to fight beside her new friends? What if she wasn’t enough help? What if this cursed soul was brought back? What if Jonathan was wrong, and her studies were useless? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked back up from where her eyes had wondered to see that Evie had pulled an artifact of her own out of her belongings and was intently studying the inscriptions while the others found their own ways of occupying themselves. Flashes of memory took over Lysandra’s vision as she watched her. Memories of sitting on the floor beside her grandfather while he worked, studying similar artifacts. Stories he would share while she sat starry-eyed and hung on every word. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She took a deep breath and forced herself back to reality and turned to Ardeth with a friendly, albeit curious, tilt of her head. “So, it makes sense that they came with Jonathan, since they’re his sister and her family, but how did you get mixed up in all of this?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was on my way in search of a priceless and important artifact and crossed paths with the O’Connells again,” he explained lightly, “We share a purpose in this, and together will put an end to this creature once and for all.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How many times have you done this?” she asked nervously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Twice.” He and Rick answered in unison, but while his answer was matter-of-fact, Rick’s was full of annoyance and frustration. It was obvious that this mission wasn’t something he had planned on taking on again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The ritual they are intending to summon him with will be done in multiple stages. If we can put a stop to one, we will be able to prevent the creature from returning and prevent him from bringing an end to all life.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sounds easy enough.” Her voice took a higher pitch and she once again bit down on her lip while her eyes drifted off to the floor again for a moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Trust me, nothing ever turns out easy with this guy.” Rick scoffed. She glanced over and noticed Evie nodding her agreement as she went over the artifact in her hands, referencing some text she had brought with her as well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you mean the priest, or him?” she asked blankly, once again glancing between the two men beside her. Rick only shook his head and laughed as if he didn’t know the answer and stood to begin gathering their belongings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Time to go,” he announced as their ferry slowed at its destination. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For several days their travel went on peacefully, with the group sharing stories to better know each other, or at times with Jonathan and Lysandra bickering or vexing each other like bitter siblings to be scolded when one of the others reached their patient limits with them. The most exciting thing for the majority of their time had been Lysandra reaching her limit with travel by water, unable to withstand the rocking motion and spending much of her time bent over the railing threatening to murder Jonathan if he made one more joke about her sickness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As their final leg of travel finally got underway, Lysandra had come to the end of her excitement for their journey. Traveling was never something she truly enjoyed, and always felt a sense of impatience to reach her destination. Once in a new place, she was always thrilled to explore and discover something new. Traveling to the new experience, however, always took a toll on her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last leg of their journey to Egypt had them all on a boat once again drifting down the river and as they settled in for the ride, the toll their traveling had taken on the group became apparent across the board. The closer they came to their destination the higher the tensions rose, and the more danger they found themselves in. While they had done well to stay ahead of the cultists, the rapid nature of their traveling had taken its toll on the party through stressed and sleepless nights and anxious waiting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their group had split between two rooms, where they would spend at least a night on their way to port in Giza. Rick, Evie, and Alex were to stay in one room while the others shared a second nearby. Lysandra had chosen a place on the floor along the wall away from the door, while Jonathan lounged lazily in a chair at her feet. Ardeth sat beside the door, on guard as he and Rick often seemed to be, which never gave any encouragement for Lysandra to relax. The bed was left forgotten after a lengthy argument over who would rest there. The initial argument was that Lysandra would have the luxury, but she denied all reasoning from the other two and argued that Ardeth should have the bed since she owed him for saving her life the day they had met. In the end, the three stubbornly claimed different places along the walls of the small room and succumbed to silence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you do not relax,” Jonathan warned without opening his eyes, referring to Lysandra’s bouncing leg that had been shaking the leg of his chair for the better part of an hour, but she cut him off by kicking the chair instead before returning to her anxious bouncing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The two of you are worse than children.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Lysandra stilled her restlessness and glanced up at Ardeth as he barely looked over from where he sat to watch them. “Are you going to start a fight, too?” She raised her brows in a playful taunt.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh do you honestly think you could fight him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh do you honestly think I was serious?” She kicked Jonathan’s chair again while mocking his irritated tone and exhaled every bit of air from her lungs, and only looked up again when Ardeth spoke.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The next time these arrangements are made, I believe it will be O’Connell who will stay with the two of you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” she frowned honestly, and rolled to her stomach to support herself on her forearms to face him easier. She had taken a breath to continue her apology but instead sighed and bit down on her lip before muttering “I’m sorry” again and letting her head fall to the floor with a graceless thud. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quiet fell over the room again with Ardeth rested with his head against the wall and eyes closed, Jonathan still lazily lounging with a book over his face and bottle in his hand, and Lysandra stretched across the floor between them, face down with her arms reaching above her head just an inch from Ardeth, and feet tucked under Jonathan’s chair. Each silently cursing the other’s stubbornness, as no one found a comfortable position to rest on the floor - or chair - that night.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just as she had begun to doze off to the rhythm of Jonathan’s quiet snoring, the door to their room was thrown open. Ardeth reached up and blocked the door from opening fully with one hand while drawing his weapon but his block did little good as the door had already been stopped after hitting her body. The moment their intruder had a shoulder through the doorway, Ardeth pulled him the rest of the way in and pinned him against the wall with a blade to his throat. Jonathan jumped to his feet with one eye open and brought his hands up to brawl, incoherently threatening whoever dared attack them, but Lysandra still sat on the farthest wall from the door with no real means of defense apart from the shoe she had grabbed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The intruder was released as quickly as he had been apprehended with a quick apology once Ardeth realized it was Rick at the tip of his blade. “We have company. We need to go,” he hissed and pulled away from the others without any further information before heading back across the hall to the room where Evie and Alex still waited. Only Ardeth moved to follow him, Lysandra and Jonathan simply waited stunned in their places. “Now!” he ordered with wide-eyed urgency, only turning back for a second to yell at them before he darted back into the room he shared with his family. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ardeth displayed a shred more patience by waiting between the rooms until they caught up. Lysandra tripped over her own feet while trying to hurry, and would have fallen face first into the doorframe had she not also fallen into him. Jonathan shuffled past them to join his family while Ardeth pushed her after him and locked the door behind them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you could help me with some of this, it would go a lot faster,” Evie tried to smile through her demand as she poured over scattered writings that were littered around the room. Alex was hard at work in the corner behind her sorting anything that had been brought along with them to make their search easier. “If we can find where they might be going, or where we need to go to stop them,” she trailed off from her explanation and traded her stack of books for some that Alex had already sorted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Looks like it was a good idea to keep everything together after all,” Lysandra nodded in an attempt to joke through the tension, relieved that they had gone through with keeping their belongings together in one room should that very situation arise. “What am I looking for?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We need to know exactly where they are planning on conducting this ritual, or at the very least what they need to do it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra nodded and took a stack of papers from Alex and set to work on the floor beside Evie. She had never gone through a book so furiously as she did once she joined in their search. Jonathan partnered with Alex to help sort things to make the search easier for the ladies while Rick moved to stand guard with Ardeth. She was reeling from how quickly everything had changed from laying half asleep in the floor of her room, to desperately throwing books around while learning as much as possible should they be forced to leave their resources behind. Apparently, word had reached the cultists that they were working to interrupt their intentions, and a collection of gentlemen had found their way onto the boat to put an end to their involvement by force. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ladies, you might want to read a little faster,” Rick warned as someone attempted to pry open their door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you help and maybe we will?” Lysandra shot back with her back turned to him and without looking up from the pages in front of her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What exactly are we looking for again?” Jonathan demanded over vicious pounding against their barred door. He had waved Alex to help the ladies in their search. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s either a map, or written instructions, I-I’m not sure,” Evie frowned, keeping her attention on her own spread of papers with the same attempted concentration as the flustered woman beside her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean you’re not sure?!” Alex demanded while fighting against her pushing him farther from the door while Rick checked his pistols and prepared for a fight and Ardeth readied his own gun. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well it’s not like anyone has really advertised doing this before! Look for a map!” Lysandra shot back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Or written instructions,” Evie added, earning annoyed and distressed protesting from her son and brother that was quickly drowned as the attack breached their room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra gasped and spun around from her research as their assailants nearly broke the door in, and froze stone still while watching their guards. “They can handle it,” Evie assured, tossing another stack of documents aside and taking fresh ones from Alex. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, we can, now find the damn map!” Rick’s response was nearly screamed over the crashing of the now broken door as he and Ardeth opened fire on their attackers. Jonathan threw Alex to the floor and dove for cover with him while Evie pulled Lysandra with her to keep searching from a safer position. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“GOT IT!” Lysandra suddenly screamed victoriously while holding the papers above her head excitedly, but realized her mistake when their attackers turned their fire on her instead of Rick and Ardeth. She only narrowly missed having a bullet through her arm and quickly dove back down with Evie, Jonathan, and Alex.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Great! New plan!” Rick announced while jumping over their scattered books to fight the small window of their room open while Ardeth did his best to provide cover fire. As soon as he was satisfied with the opening he pulled Jonathan up and pushed him to the window, encouraging him to jump into the water below, much to his brother-in-law’s protest. As soon as Jonathan was in the water, he lifted Alex through the opening to send him out for his escape. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The gunfire had stopped, and Ardeth took advantage of the reprieve to close and barricade the broken door to the best of his ability to buy more time before more mercenaries came to finish the job.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. No, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>do that! Rick, absolutely not!” Lysandra protested against their escape plan with tears in her eyes while Evie gathered a few things that would be necessary for their success and took his help to escape. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We have no other options, there are too many of them and more will be coming!” Ardeth commented with a quick nod to Rick as he reloaded to cover their retreat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you have a really big gun, and I don’t even know how many knives, a-and Rick’s a good shot! I’m sure we’ll be ok!” she argued frantically, backing away from both men after Evie had made her descent into the water with Alex and Jonathan. She stood with her back against the wall with her fists balled against her chest and tears in her eyes as the anxiety sent waves of deep ache through her lungs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next wave of mercenaries were already trying to get through the door, and while the Ardeth had done his best to barricade the entrance to their room, with a broken door it was proving much easier for them to break through a second time than the first. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rick stayed by the window and nodded to Ardeth as he closed the distance to her, and before she knew it he had her by the arm, pushing her closer to Rick and the open window. “Rick, I mean it,” she breathed, while fear threatened to take the breath from her lungs, “please, I can’t sw-” her pleading fell on deaf ears, and her words cut off into a horrified shriek as she made her way into the water. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her sense of direction had completely left her as she fought to find which way to move to find air, but all she could seem to manage was panicked thrashing and screaming below the water. The most she could catch was a desperate gasp  here and there as her head came above water for a split second before she found herself submerged again. Without the ability to touch her feet to solid ground, keeping her head above water was impossible, no matter how many times she reached for the surface. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her thrashing and fighting continued until she felt someone grab a hold of her shoulder. She hoped to the highest heavens that whoever it was was friendly, and clinged onto them for dear life. Her coughing was uncontrollable, and her vision blurred, but she finally could pull air into her lungs with the help of whoever steadied her while swimming her to shore. She could hear Jonathan’s voice not too far from her as he both attempted to reassure her while apologizing profusely, but she couldn’t think to do much more than clutch onto her rescuer arm and wait to find solid ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The moment her feet did find the ground she pulled away and fought her way out of the water to collapse on the shore where Evie, Alex, and Ardeth waited, panting and coughing through her tears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “Why didn’t you say you can’t swim?” Rick demanded, joining her with Jonathan right beside him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked up in a fury and threw a handful of wet sand at him, catching him across the face and chest. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You didn’t listen!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Her voice echoed around them from her scream that quickly fell into another bout of uncontrollable coughing. “I-I </span>
  <em>
    <span>tried </span>
  </em>
  <span>to tell you! </span>
  <em>
    <span>You </span>
  </em>
  <span>had him throw me out the window!” She then turned to face Ardeth who covered his face to avoid the sand she threw at him, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You threw me out the window!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did not,” he countered calmly, “I merely guided you to O’Connell to ensure your safe escape. He is the one who pushed you from the boat.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She collapsed into the sand, still shaking from their escape, and fought to regain her composure but in the end the best she could do was lay and stare up at the night sky above them. “At least we have the map to know where to go.” Jonathan tried to lighten the mood but got the sense that he had done quite the opposite when Lysandra’s eyes shot open and her heavy breathing came to a sudden stop. “Andy, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> still have the map?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span>, until </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone</span>
  </em>
  <span> tried to drown me.” Her bitter retort was spoken with closed eyes and she secretly hoped that the sand would swallow her whole as the others voiced their discontent. Rick’s displeasure was by far among the most vocal, second only to his son who dramatically fell backward to lay the same way Lysandra had chosen to rest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If we can get to Cairo, I know someone who might be able to help us though,” she cut in hopefully and forced herself to her feet in an effort to feign confidence while addressing the others. “My granddad had a friend who lives there now, Samuel Willington. He’s been here for years, they used to work together in antiquities when I was little. We write all the time, and he’s always said that if I ever come to Egypt he’d be excited to help with anything I need. He came to take care of me for a while after granddad died until Linda called to take over. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We don’t have to tell him </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> what we’re doing, but he might have some artifacts or old writing that could help us.” She darted her attention to determine the reactions of the others around her and bit down on her lip, a nervous habit that completely undermined her feigned confidence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll need supplies anyway, most of what we had is still on that boat.” Rick relented and motioned for the others to get ready to move. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I made sure to grab the journal, Andy, it looks like it wasn’t too damaged by the water,” Jonathan announced quietly, and showed off the old journal with a faded painting of an Egyptian scarab on the cover. She smiled and threw her arms around him for a quick and impulsive hug and backed away with the book in her hands. “Of everything left behind this is one that upset me the most. So, thanks Jonathan,” she beamed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of all the things to salvage, Evaline, a teddy bear?” Rick’s astonished question caught everyone’s attention, but no one more than Lysandra as he held up the worn, aged, and now soaked stuffed bear. He shook the toy in question while his wife turned to answer him, but Lysandra had already darted over and snatched it from his hands to cradle it in her own. “You don’t touch him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ever</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” she warned sternly, “I mean it, I can’t even tell you how important this is to me, and if you can’t treat him with the respect he deserves, you don’t touch him.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He goes with the book,” Jonathan added as she placed both items back in the bag Rick had pulled the bear from before securing it over her shoulder. She kept quiet and moved to stand beside Ardeth and Alex, eager to begin their trek to Cairo and hopefully to the safety of the Willington place. It was obvious the others had questions about her attachment to the bear, and just as obvious she had no intention of discussing it further for the time being. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! Please share your thoughts or any questions/comments, I love to hear from you!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>If Lysandra thought she had ever experienced exhaustion before, she had been sorely mistaken. After walking miles on end, through the night and into the day across the sandy landscape the ache in her legs and feet had her ready to collapse and demand to be left behind. She felt more than a twinge of jealousy toward Alex, who upon reaching his limit was carried on his father’s back to be given a chance to rest. Jonathan had jokingly offered to carry her the same way, but she replied by threatening to knock him down the dune they had just ascended. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, I uh, I never imagined myself doing this,” she announced while working with everything she had to hide how out of breath she was. “Walking across a desert, trying not to die? Wasn’t in the plan.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We won’t die out here, don’t be silly.” She couldn’t tell if Evie was trying to be comforting or scornful, but it was a comfort to know that while she hid her exhaustion well, it was evident in her voice. At least that meant Lysandra wasn’t the only one who was reaching her limit with their surprise hiking trip. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, how far away are we?” she looked up toward Ardeth in hope that he would have a good answer, but between his posture and the conflicted expression he wore that sat somewhere between amused and sympathetic, her heart sank before he had the chance to speak.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If memory serves us, we are halfway to Cairo.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra stopped mid-step and let her pack fall from her shoulder. “Half,” she huffed and looked over to where Rick grimaced while adjusting Alex’s weight on his back. Evie hid her expression well but slightly wavered where she stood beside her family. Jonathan made no effort to hide his discomfort and stood looking up to the heavens for mercy, eyes clenched closed while he silently battled his own aching muscles. She glanced over to Ardeth to see if they would be continuing onward, and secretly hoped to see at least a hint of their shared exhaustion on him, to find that she was not the only one observing their party’s condition. “There is a place not far where we can rest before we continue our journey,” he nodded, earning praise and thankful sighs from the others before leading them to their new destination. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The earthy scent radiating from the cliff face and overhang he had led them to was nearly overpowering, but the shade provided was a welcome trade. Lysandra eased herself to the ground and leaned her head back against the rocks with her bag secured in her lap and felt the full weight of her body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought I was going to die if we had to keep walking!” Lysandra couldn’t help but imagine that Alex’s more dramatic traits had come directly from his uncle as Evie hushed him and dug through her bag for a canteen and some food. Jonathan was beside him, sprawled across the sand in an identical posture to his nephew, and voiced his agreement to their near-death experience only to be silenced by Rick kicking his foot. She unconsciously hugged the bag in her lap against her chest and watched their interactions until Ardeth startled her out of her musings by sitting down beside her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I, uhm, they’re good parents,” she stammered awkwardly and pushed a few stray locks of hair away from her face. He nodded in silent agreement before pointing to the teddy bear that peeked out from her bag. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You carry an interesting treasure.” If it weren’t for the smile with his curiosity she would have been as defensive against him as she had been with Rick, but he had her convinced for the moment at least that he held no judgment for her stuffed companion. She pulled the bear out of the bag and affectionately brushed her hand over its head and gave a sad shrug. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My granddad gave him to me. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t have him with me; he’s the only thing I have left of him other than that old journal Jonathan saved.” She turned the bear for him to see, showing it off the same way she had when she was little and carried him everywhere with her. As Ardeth looked over her companion his eyes fell on a worn old band around its arm decorated with intricately carved hieroglyphics, made of clay that at one time was painted to be gold. “Granddad made him that band for his arm when I was little. He said that some of ancient Egypt’s greatest soldiers and guardians wore bands like that and that he was making sure that I knew my bear would protect me when I was scared. He copied some of the artifacts he cared for to make it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She handed the bear over to him for him to inspect the armband further and smiled excitedly over the simple fact that someone else admired her grandfather’s craftsmanship as much as she did. However, as he weighed the bear in his hands during his inspection she pulled it back and secured it safely in her bag. “It is heavier than I would have expected,” he confessed as she hid it from view. “Yep. He has dense stuffing,” she answered quickly without looking back up at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She bit down on her lip and pulled her legs up to her chest with her skirt tucked in tightly around herself and looked out over the horizon. Her eyes squinted as she fell hard into her thoughts, and she stayed that way for quite a while. Her only movement was to occasionally adjust the sleeve of her shirt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the others rested and one by one fell asleep under the shade of the overhang she broke herself out of her daydreaming to take advantage of her time and study her grandfather’s journal. She had read the book more times than she could count, but each time she seemed to take something different from it. She prayed that this time would prove the same reading it again knowing what she had learned about the rituals she hoped to help prevent.  Her research was short-lived, however, as her exhaustion caught the better of her, and her eyes lulled closed and the journal eventually fell from her hands into the sand beside her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well look at you, world’s youngest archaeologist! What did you find?” She looked up to see her grandfather smiling proudly down at her while she sat in the sand. The others were nowhere to be found, but she was still resting below the overhang where Ardeth had led them. Perhaps the most confusing thing was that the air around her no longer smelled the same, and instead smelled like worn books, old papers, spiced tea, and black coffee, mixed with her grandfather’s cologne. A mixed aroma that had been the hallmark of her memories of the museum, and one that she hadn’t experienced since. “Well, let me see it. You never know how valuable it might be!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He waved his hand excitedly, the way he always did when he had found something new or was teaching her about a new story or legend. Looking down at her hand, where his journal should have been, was an old rock. No markings, nothing special, just a simple old rock that she had found. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Memories flooded her mind as she remembered the day she had found that rock. He had said the exact same words, with all the same excitement, as she sat digging in the dirt of a flower bed beside the museum. While the curator yelled at her for digging in the garden, her grandfather had made such a big deal over her find, and whisked her away to his study to reference all of his papers together and document her find. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>As she held the rock up for him he immediately started pouring over every detail of it, rambling fact after fact about how to tell the age of a stone, or where it could have come from, just as he had done so many years ago. She watched him with a tearful smile as he consistently adjusted his glasses, unable to decide if he preferred them pushed up as far as they would go, resting atop his head, or at the end of his nose. The more excited he was, the less tolerant he was over his glasses and always had been. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well, you found a fantastic rock. An amazing rock! This rock is unlike any rock I have ever seen!” She watched him through a child’s eyes as he elaborately praised the stone, afraid to breathe too loud at risk of ruining this visit with a man she had missed for a lifetime. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He moved to sit beside her and returned the rock and tapped the cover of his old journal thoughtfully. “You’ll keep finding rocks,” he nodded cheerfully while pulling her into a one-armed hug. She curled up against his chest and reached up to play with his beard the same way she always did during bedtime stories when she was little. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Can you read to me?” she asked hopefully while he picked up his journal. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You don’t need me to read to you, Lyssie, you already have the key.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“But I miss your stories.” She choked back a sob while holding onto him as tightly as she could manage. He laughed lightly and shook her shoulder. His hand felt so much smaller than she remembered, or it could be that she hadn’t felt his hands since she was much smaller herself. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He shook her shoulder again with more force and muttered something that sounded more like Rick’s voice than his own. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no not yet, please don’t go yet,” she pleaded desperately, but it was too late. As she blinked her way into the waking world and stared up at Evie who still had a hand on her shoulder, it took every bit of will power she had not to collapse into heartbroken tears. It had been years since she had dreamt of her grandfather, but this dream felt so different as if it were truly him sitting beside her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you all right?” Evie gave her the same expression she gave Alex when checking over him and it only made Lysandra want to break down that much more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I uh, I just miss granddad is all,” she admitted and pushed herself up to gather her things before finishing their journey to Cairo. She did lose her composure the first time she saw the great pyramids in person, raving about how much her grandfather would have loved to see them himself, as well as expressing how incredible it was to stand and share a sight that someone else would have held thousands of years ago. She had been so overcome that Ardeth jokingly threatened to blindfold her to avoid any other overwhelming sights until they reached their destination. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The city itself was overwhelming as they made their way through the crowded streets. She felt silly knowing that she was the only member of their party so enthralled and taken by the sights, sounds, and smells of the bustling city, but she couldn’t help herself. Such discovery was what fueled her love of travel and now that they had finally made it to the city, she had a difficult time keeping up with the others from being distracted by absolutely every new sight she came across. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You, walk in front,” Rick ordered after finally having had enough, and grabbed her by the shoulders to push her ahead of him to walk with Evie. He had lost count of how many times he had checked behind him to see that she had stopped walking to look at something and was being left behind. She laughed an apology that was only half genuine but did her best to remain focused nonetheless. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evie had explained that there was a place nearby where they could lodging for their stay and was doing her best to lead them there before nightfall while Ardeth took his leave to handle business of his own with the promise of joining them later. Lysandra planned to reach out to Samuel that evening once they had rooms settled, and see how much help would be found there. At the least, she was overjoyed to visit with him and his son after having not seen them in over ten years. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Lysandra had heard Evie’s promise of booking rooms, she imagined simple lodging, maybe two beds per room for a larger rental. What they had gotten were two large bedrooms, each with their own sitting rooms that were joined by a door between suites. Lavishly decorated in reds and brass, with ornately woven rugs underfoot, she couldn’t help from feeling out of class as she took in the beautiful lodging. In each sitting room were two large couches and two chairs each, while each bedroom held a large four-poster bed, leaving enough room for everyone to have their own place to sleep comfortably without anyone being left to the floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “So tell us about this Samuel fellow,” Jonathan prompted once they had all settled in with dinner. Lysandra looked up with a quick “hmm?” and a mouth full of food and held up a finger for him to wait while she got herself together enough to answer his inquiry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well,” she nodded once she swallowed her unladylike and gluttonous mouthful, “He worked with granddad. He used to spend a lot of time with us in granddad’s study, and brought all kinds of things back with him from dig sites. He and granddad worked on the same things but in different ways. Granddad cared more about the stories of each artifact, and Samuel, like most people, cares about the value, but he’s always been a big supporter of granddad’s work. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“After granddad died, he moved back to New York and took me in until Linda reached out and took over. I lived with him and his son, Andrew, for about a year. We’ve worked together a few times on expeditions, or he’d write and have me identify something with my research. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t wait for you all to meet them! I’m sure you’ll have so much to talk about, too. He’s been fascinated with ancient Egyptian lore for as long as I can remember; that’s why he moved here, to be closer to the places that called to him.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She bounced excitedly to scoot forward to the edge of her chair and pointed toward Evie with her fork. “Other than granddad, you’re the only person who knows more about all this than Samuel does.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra volunteered to clean up after dinner, needing something to keep busy, and made sure to set a plate aside for Ardeth should he be hungry when he returned. Since the dishes would be cleaned by the staff her chore didn’t take anywhere near as long as she had hoped but it was a welcome distraction from her racing thoughts. Between dreaming of her grandfather and possibly seeing Samuel and Andrew again, worrying for her safety and that of her friends, and her usual restlessness, relaxation was an unrecognizable concept. She was fidgety on a good day, and even years ago during that week spent with Jonathan in London, he had endless comments regarding her constant need to be doing </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> at all times. Adding the additional stressors of a cult and hired mercenaries trying to kill everyone in the room she shared and having only barely escaped with their lives just a day ago, and the knowledge that a member of their group had gone off alone to handle business and had not come back yet had her more anxiously restless than she had ever been before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She must have read, sorted, and organized her books at least five times before they had been confiscated by Rick under the reasoning of, “You’re making </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> nervous, settle down.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She did the best that she could but only was able to achieve a semblance of calm once on the topic of exchanging legends again. Alex had become a fan of her storytelling and was quick to ask questions or interject with facts of his own or corrections that he had learned from his parents. The enthusiasm of Lysandra, Alex, and Evie’s storytelling left Rick and Jonathan with little else to do than venture off for drinks, as there was very little chance for either to get a word in. Rick made sure Evie was armed before leaving with strict instructions to keep the doors locked until they got back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the gentlemen of their party did return Lysandra was once again laying on the floor surrounded by her books while Evie and Alex both slept on a couch together, leaving their return unnoticed by the women and child of the group. Ardeth had joined Rick and Jonathan with important news about the cult shortly before they chose to return to the privacy of their rooms to discuss what he had found out, but they couldn’t help but watch the other half of their party as they rested and researched.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell </span>
  </em>
  <span>am I missing? I’ve gone through this a hundred times,” Lysandra grumbled while flipping her grandfather’s scarab journal back to the beginning and immediately starting another read through the pages. She’d flip back and forth between pages, meticulously inspecting each and every word, bitterly grumbling to herself every so often as she went. The men watched her in silence while she worked in her own little world. Until that is, she reached for her cup of tea that sat on the table beside her. She turned just enough while reaching for her drink to catch a glimpse of Ardeth’s silhouette from the corner of her eye, and took a painfully sharp gasp before hurling the full porcelain cup of lukewarm tea at his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While his reflexes were enough to catch the cup before it made contact with his face, the tea ended up everywhere, and all over not only him but Jonathan as well. “Bloody good aim, Andy, should mummies attack, I suggest you be the one to offer hospitality,” Jonathan remarked sarcastically while he wiped at his jacket in hopes of preventing any staining. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> sorry! Are you okay? You scared me, I didn’t mean to hit you! I-I mean I did, but I didn’t know it was you, I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>so sorry!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Evie and Alex woke with a start while Lysandra rambled her apology and darted over to hand Ardeth the tea towel from the table. She initially tried to dry his clothes herself in an attempt to make things better, but he politely thanked her for the towel and pushed her a step back while he tended to his own clothing. She watched him with her hands balled up by her chin and tears in her eyes, still apologizing every few breaths. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nodded and held his hands out to show that he was unharmed and offered a small smile before brushing past her to claim one of the empty chairs, shortly followed by Rick and Jonathan. “Well, it’s never boring with you around,” Rick nodded once settled with his arm around Evie. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra only replied with an unamused “mmhmm” and returned to her place on the floor while Ardeth shared the news he had brought back with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The cultists are making their way in several directions. They either seek multiple items from different locations, or seek to trick us into following the wrong path to ensure their own success. They also know that we are somewhere in this city with the intent of preventing the creature’s return; things will become more dangerous for us from this point on.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well then, we best keep our heads down,” Jonathan nodded. Lysandra had gotten used to Ardeth’s constant seriousness, as well as Rick’s attitude when things were tense, but Jonathan brought the weight of the situation down on her. He annoyed her to no end, but she found comfort in his lighthearted attitude, and when that faded the gravity of their situation truly scared her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ardeth continued to share his findings but she lost herself while thinking of the different dangers they faced, and imaginings of the worst that could happen. What if the cult went after Linda to get to her? What if they were attacked again while sleeping? If they failed and this creature </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> resurrected, would they still be able to stop him from destroying all life?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She bit down on her lip and tried to shake herself out of her anxious thinking and focus back onto what Ardeth had to say, but only caught the last few words of his report. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They have not yet found this key. Without it, they are unable to open the doorway to the realm of the dead.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well then, we’ll just have to find it first, won’t we?” Evie nodded, entirely self-assured that they would succeed, but Ardeth didn’t seem to share her confidence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It has been missing for hundreds of years. The guardian who protected it vanished, along with his soldiers; nothing is known of them since. It could be anywhere.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra’s head tilted to the side while her eyes wandered the room for a moment. “You look like you know something,” Rick observed, “care to let us in on it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think....  I think granddad knew about it,” her reply was mostly thinking aloud and murmuring under her breath while she poured over the scarab journal yet again before snapping it closed and sitting up taller. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There was a mummy in the museum, he was our favorite. Everyone thought he was a pharaoh, and granddad let them all think that but when the museum was closed and it was just the three of us, he told me stories about the mummy. He said he was a leader of some warriors and had some of his treasures hidden away. He said that he was a commander, or like a chief, and his job was to protect the treasures and their secrets; granddad always said he did what he did because some secrets are meant to be kept. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He didn’t really like the museum, he said they’re places where nothing is sacred. He would sometimes put the wrong names on things, or hide things all together, if their secrets needed to be kept. He said it was important to protect them.” she rambled with a speed that left several of her words blending together while she repositioned to support her weight on her fingertips of one hand while flipping through the pages of another journal with the other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Most of what he hid had to do with these warriors. They had a name… it was so long ago, I can’t remember,” she rocked her weight back onto her heels and pushed her hair back behind her ears while going back into her habit of talking more to herself than her companions, “magic-no. Mad… ugh, what was the word!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Medjai,” Ardeth answered simply, but was not prepared for the reaction his answer caused. The look that crossed Lysandra’s face was more bright excitement than a child who had been surprised with a puppy. She moved ever so slightly closer to him, but then leaned away after thinking better of her decision. She reached for one of her books, but then sat it back down again, and anxiously pushed her hair back behind her ears two or three times over. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you, y-you’re Medjai, too, aren’t you?” she breathed finally, with eyes so wide that he wasn’t sure it would be humanly possible for them to widen further. He nodded and smiled at her while she struggled, and failed, to contain her excitement. The closest to composure she achieved was a barely-suppressed squeak while bringing her tightly balled fists over her mouth. She then watched him for a moment, still wide-eyed, but her brows knit together and she bit down on her bottom lip again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is this a problem?” he questioned, but she shook her head quickly and waved a hand dismissively while rising to her feet. She brought one of the last remaining bags to be emptied back to the center of the room and emptied it onto the floor before picking up her worn old bear. She gave it one last hug and tore the back of its body open, revealing a neatly wrapped package tied in old cloth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You, um, you should have this then,” she nodded while staring at the neatly kept bundle in her hands, visibly conflicted. “Yeah, he- he’d want it in your hands. It’s yours, it belongs to you,” she added, having made up her mind and handed it off to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pursed her lips while he unraveled the package to find an ornate dagger and amulet kept within an old cotton shirt. “He kept it a secret from the museum. Some things don’t belong on display and said this deserved the respect of being a secret,” she explained quietly as he examined the artifacts in silent surprise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“These are ancient relics, sacred to my people,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know. Granddad knew more about these things than he knew about anything else in that museum. They belonged to the medjai, the one everyone thought was a pharaoh. I know he’d want this to stay with you. He’d want them to go home.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She went back to her place among her books and immersed herself in study, letting her hair fall over her face in an attempt to hide the tears that built up in her eyes, but it was a fruitless effort. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have not only my thanks, but that of my people for returning these. We have searched for hundreds of years to reclaim them.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, um, now you have them.” She nodded with a sigh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It seems difficult for you to give them up,” Evie observed sadly while Lysandra wiped a few tears and shrugged. “I don’t have anything left to hold onto,” she admitted, “most of my books, and the things I collect, they came later. That’s all that’s left of granddad. I wasn’t allowed to take anything when I left his house, but I packed that up and hid them inside my bear. He already had them wrapped up like that, so I just unstuffed the bear and shoved them inside. That’s all he ever wanted to do, was give these back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The awkward silence that fell over the room left her feeling even more grief as no one could think of the right words to say, so she stood again and slapped her hands over her thighs - another habit of hers when she was uncomfortable with silence - and turned for the door. “Anyway, there you go, and I’ll uh, I’ll be back later.” With that she walked out of the room to find some solace. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She walked through the halls of the small hotel until she found a balcony that overlooked the small courtyard below, and sank to the ground with a shaking breath. She knew that her grandfather would be overjoyed if he could have seen those artifacts back in the hands of their rightful people, but knowing that it was the end of her time keeping them felt like losing him all over again. The last piece of his work that she had had been finished, and there would be nothing left to do for him now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ache in her chest couldn’t have hurt more if someone had stabbed her, she was certain, but the tears refused to fall more than a couple here and there. “Oh hell,” she groaned, and let her head fall hard against the railing behind her while her eyes fell closed against the world around her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had no idea how long she had stayed there in the quiet of the balcony, but when her eyes opened again the sun had gone low over the horizon, and the lamps had all been lit along the streets. It was a surprise that no one had come to get her with as many arguments had been made in favor of staying together for safety, but she was thankful for the blessing of solitude in her grief. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rooms had gone mostly silent, with only snoring coming from the adjacent room on her return. They kept the door between rooms propped open to keep from being separated in the event of another attack. Rick leaned over from his seat in the doorway as she tip-toed her way through the room to avoid waking anyone and she waved awkwardly as he kept watch, but he stood and quietly made his way over to her before she could reach her bed for the night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alex wanted me to make sure you got this. He spent all evening with Evie working on it,” he announced quietly. She looked down to see him holding her bear out to her, having been stuffed again and sewn back together. “The shirt is back inside it,” he added as she took the bear in her arms and held it to her chest with a fresh spring of tears in her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you so much,” she whispered but held the bear over her mouth to quiet the hushed crying that came with a vengeance from having not come when she hid on the balcony. He sighed as well, and pulled her into a hug, holding her while she broke down until she could compose herself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your son is an incredible person. You’re doing a great job with him.” She smiled finally, pulling away while still cradling the bear in her arms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He gets it from his mother,” he joked awkwardly and went back to his post while she sought the comfort of her bed. Their conversation ended there, and for once it only took a few minutes for her to fall asleep. It was a rarity for her to sleep through the night, but with the exhaustion from traveling combined with the emotional taxation of her grief, she slept more soundly than she had in years cradling her old bear the same way she had when she was little. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Lysandra woke to hushed conversation and a merciless beam of sun shining directly into her eyes. She groaned and rolled to cover her face but the damage had already been done; she was awake. “We had hoped to let you sleep, I’m sorry if we woke you,” Evie frowned as she sat up and rubbed her eyes and looked around for the others who were nowhere in sight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Rick took the boys to gather some supplies for us. Ardeth is on the other side of our rooms. We were just discussing your gifts to him,” she explained while Lysandra covered her face with both hands and yawned into her palms. “What time is it?” Lysandra’s question was muffled by her hands while her demeanor very much resembled Jonathan’s more difficult hangovers.  Evie looked out through the window to the bustling shops below and debated giving an honest answer after having let Lysandra sleep for so long before tilting her head and confessing, “Well, it’s just barely midday.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have to go see Samuel today.” Lysandra groaned and changed the subject and forced herself to her feet. “I get the feeling we don’t have the luxury of waiting for a formal meeting. Even without the key, they’ll still be gathering the other things they need and working in other places on other things to get ahead of us. Linda always drilled into my head, ‘every lock can be picked’. I’m scared that even without the key they might still get whatever it unlocks to work.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should be careful; we can never be sure of who our allies are,” Ardeth’s warning was called from the other side of the rooms where he was just out of Lysandra’s view, but she rolled her eyes in his general direction nonetheless and set to work fixing her hair to appear somewhat presentable. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s why I need to see Samuel before we have to leave. I don’t want whoever those men were on the boat to find us here before I can warn him, and I don’t want us to get chased out of the city before I have a chance to ask for his help.” She frowned at herself in the mirror and tugged at her dusty curls before surrendering to the inevitable and tying a scarf over her mane. She had learned early in her life that her curls decided what she would be doing with her hair, not her. The light brown waves had minds of their own, and she was lucky if they decided to be uncooperative in the same way. One section, in particular, had been in her eyes for as many years as she could remember, and was the reason she had chosen to begin wearing ribbons and scarves in her hair in the first place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can never be too careful.” He moved from his place in the other room to stand in the doorway between the two and watched her fight her losing battle in the mirror. She looked at his reflection and shook her head before returning to her efforts. “What will you do if you are attacked? You can defend yourself against these men?” His agitation was contagious and did little to persuade her against her plans and being questioned over her ability to fight back only served to frustrate her more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I won’t have to.” Her counter was firm while she glared at his reflection. There was nothing in his stance or expression that showed any form of believing her and he continued to stare her down while she secured her scarf and smoothed down her dress. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be back before dinner. If I’m not, </span>
  <em>
    <span>then</span>
  </em>
  <span> you can worry,” she assured with a smile. She stopped in front of him and locked eyes while facing him squarely, “I mean it, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> things are dangerous, but I also </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> Samuel. I wouldn’t be standing here without him.” She reached out and squeezed his arm for added reassurance and smiled again before turning for the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Back by dinner. Promise!” she waved cheerfully and bounced out the door to reunite with the family she had been missing for years. The heat of the midday sun had her immediately adjusting the sleeve of her dress to alleviate the discomfort brought to her while Evie watched her from the safety of their room.  “Oh, do you think she’ll be all right?” she questioned, her voice full of worry and guilt for allowing Lysandra to go out on her own. As she turned to face Ardeth in search of his answer she was met with the sound of the door clicking closed, leaving her alone in their rooms to await the return of her party. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The absolute poshness of the district where Evie had booked their rooms was like a painting brought to life. With the streets lined with English shops each full of well-dressed patrons, if it hadn’t been for the desert and Great Pyramids visible beyond the cityscape, Lysandra would have been convinced that she was not walking through the streets of Cairo, but back in London. Seeing the lovely women leisurely meandering about from shop to shop in their sun hats and light dresses left her feeling a twinge of insecurity with her dirty dress and scarf-covered mess of hair, but she tried not to dwell on thoughts that were not important at the time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had become accustomed to feeling intimidated by the beauty of other women, an insecurity that Linda had spent a lifetime trying to remedy with sayings like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“True beauty has mud on her feet, dirt under her nails, and leaves in her hair.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Usually, these words of advice were given during a long, shoeless, walk through the woods and began the moment Lysandra had grown to the age where she had started to compare herself to the other girls in town. Girls who were raised by parents who valued good looks and better manners, and ensured that their daughters were well dressed and even better behaved. Linda, on the other hand, valued none of those things. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“A quiet girl never gets her voice heard, Sprout. In this house, we have deep roots, wild hair, dirty feet, and loud voices. They might be afraid of us, but by the good in the earth, they’ll hear us.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra smiled to herself while remembering all the times Linda had taken the ribbons out of her hair. Once she even went so far as to burn the ribbon in the hearth, announcing that anything used to cover her Sprout’s beauty is a sin and wouldn’t be tolerated in her home. She felt the sting of tears threatening her eyes with a wave of homesickness and stopped alongside one of the busy crosswalks to check her map to be sure she was going the right way. Before walking again she took the scarf from over her hair, and let her hair blow freely in the dry summer wind, whispering to herself one of Linda’s favorite phrases of advice, chanting the words under her breath like a hushed prayer. “We don’t hide our strength, power, or earth-given beauty. We stand proud and strong, untamed, and unhidden. I am heard, I am seen, I am powerful, I am unstoppable.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She turned onto a much narrower street, full of vendors and overwhelming numbers of voices calling out from beggars pleading for help to vendors shouting prices and wares to catch her attention and anything in between. The street was far too narrow for any sort of vehicle and was made narrower still with the countless carts and stalls that lined either side. She felt like Alice lost in Wonderland as she ducked under ornately designed tapestries and other woven goods that hung on lines draped from one side of the street to the other, spinning around wide-eyed to take it all in. It was as if the entire city were one vast festival. There was music carried in the air from street performers who worked to impress passersby enough for them to part with their money, and a myriad of scents danced along with it from food vending stalls and sweet oils and perfumes held out for sale as she walked by. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was so enthralled with the newness of her surroundings that she practically danced her way through the streets of the bazaar. Her giddy excitement only increased as she finally made her way to a gated house with a plate over the entry that proudly read, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Willington.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She darted up the steps to the door and rapped on the solid wooden door, and bounced from heels to toes like a child while waiting to be answered. And, much like a child, when the door was opened to reveal the stout man with a handlebar mustache, thinning salt-and-pepper hair and crooked round wire glasses staring back at her, she squealed in excitement and threw her arms around his shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well hello to you too, young lady, I say you look fine for someone who has just traveled halfway around the world just for a visit.” His greeting was accompanied by a firm hold on her shoulders as he looked up at her. She was much shorter the last time he had seen her. A thin, wiry little eight-year-old with buck teeth and arms forever filled by her precious teddy bear. Now she stood a properly grown young lady, grown into her teeth and a full inch or two taller than he stood. She still had the same disastrous hair, however, with her curls unapologetically poking out in any direction of their choosing. Her clothes were not much better. Her dress was rumpled and stained from dirt and sweat and torn in a few places as well. If he was honest with himself, she looked like she had been through hell. “Good god, what happened to you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Oh what didn’t,” she muttered under her breath before reconnecting with his eyes, “I had some trouble on the Nile, and we had to abandon ship several miles away from here. Luckily another passenger knows the area enough and led us all safely to the city.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She tried to keep her explanation vague enough, in case the men Samuel employed in his home were not able to be trusted with the truth, but the look of sadness that Samuel gave her still broke her heart. “I’m glad to see you made it here safely. There are a lot of people out there, those desert types, who can’t be trusted. A pretty girl like you might not have made it to the city at all.” He shook his head and took her by the arm before guiding her through his home, decorated much the same way as the rooms she shared with Jonathan and the others, and into his study where they could speak privately. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look at you, following in William Elliot’s footsteps all the way,” he sighed while standing across the room from her, hands on his hips, taking in the sight of her. “He never could stay away from Egyptian mystery, and now here you are, chasing one of your own.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What mystery?” she laughed curiously and claimed the seat beside his desk while he settled in his usual place of study. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why else would you be here? Are you going to tell me you came all the way here just to say ‘hi’? You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> part of some expedition?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shrugged and shook her head, “Well, yes, but not in the same way. I’m here to help some friends with their work.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Samuel nodded and gazed out the window beside them. His chin came to rest on top of his folded hands, and she was taken back to all the times he had sat exactly like that in her grandfather’s study so many years ago, watching him work while she ‘helped’ by drawing pictures of the artifacts for his notes. It was surreal to see such the same image, but so changed by time. His hair had lost much of its color, and his mustache was much longer. He looked tired, above all else. As if time had taken the energy from his body. She felt a sense of sadness from him as well and figured he was thinking about her grandfather as much as she had been. The last time they had spoken in person this way was the day he had left her with Linda, after having taken her in for a little more than a year after her grandfather’s death. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, it’s dangerous work Lysandra, and I worry. It’s safer if you go home, and keep studying books and artifacts. Fieldwork should be left to the professionals, and even they get killed doing it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know, Samuel, but I’ll be ok. I’m working with an experienced team, and they’ve been looking out for me.” Her answer was honest, the others did have a surprising level of experience in their mission, and while Rick had nearly drowned her by throwing her into the Nile, he also jumped in right behind her and pulled her to shore as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t answer and only shook his head when she prompted him to speak. Years with only letters for contact had made things so different between them. She had expected things to be the same as before when she was a child when they would spend hours on end sharing snacks while he worked and she “helped” from the floor beside his desk. It hurt her that he was so distant now that she sat beside him again. Another disappointment was the absence of his son, Andrew, who she had spent countless days playing alongside in their early childhood before she moved in with Linda. She had been just as excited to see the man she still considered her older brother again as much as she had to reunite with Samuel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The deep sigh Samuel breathed before he looked back toward her, finally, did little to remedy the uneasiness she felt in the atmosphere between them. He did offer a smile, but there was more behind it that he was masking. Perhaps he sensed that she was hiding so much from him through her vague answers. He finally spoke again just as she took a breath to do the same. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You grew up to be so much like William, and just as stubborn, y’know that?” She couldn’t tell if he was speaking from a position of sadness or fondness, but his words brought another smile to his face while his hands disappeared under his desk to fiddle with an open drawer. “I have missed you so much, young lady.” The relief she felt to his words was incalculable. A new smile broke out across her face while she leaned forward to lay her chin over her arms crossed atop his desk, similar to how she would sit with him all those years ago. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Samuel, you should know that there are some dangerous people in the city who are trying to do something really bad. You have a lot of artifacts and writings, I don’t want you to get hurt; you should be careful.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Careful? Lissie, there are always dangerous people in this city; it’s a dangerous place!” he brought a weathered hand up to play with the end of his mustache for a moment before resting his arms on the desk, comfortable and relaxed as if they had been sharing conversations in his study daily for all these years. The familiarity was a welcome comfort to Lysandra, who had begun to fear her presence wasn’t welcome. “But,” he continued with a shrug, “you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> right, there are some who are more of a danger than others. I keep watch, and Andrew and I both carry pistols to keep safe.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, good,” she nodded happily and tapped her fingers on the desk while sitting up to her full height again. “You remember some of the old stories granddad used to tell? About Medjai and curses?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do,” he nodded skeptically and mimicked her motion to sit at full height, “A bunch of superstitious donkey dust if you ask me.” She frowned and leaned back in her seat, and adjusted the sleeve of her shirt at the shoulder. He shook his head and breathed a deep sigh, looking up at her over his crooked wire glasses. “You’re out here chasing those old stories, aren’t you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just- granddad was always so sure of it, and I want to find the answers he didn’t get a chance to,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He was a damned old fool chasing fairytales.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were convinced enough to chase treasures, what makes history any different?” She countered his argument with fact from memory, remembering how convinced he had been to seek the wealth of the ancient kingdoms of Egypt. Convinced enough to leave America altogether and buy a house in Cairo. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Too much like William, just as stubborn,” he repeated and slammed his hands down on the top of the desk, “take my word for it and stay out of things that are too big for you! Go home, Lissie!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra leaned back, stunned by his sudden outburst, but refused to move again. “What is that supposed to mean, Samuel?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It means you are </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> like the crazy old man, and his crazy old witch who raised you! Those two were always poking around in things they shouldn’t have been! I hoped you would have been smarter than him, that you’d find a man and settle down, stay in that small town and raise babies, and stay out of the way.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had risen to his feet now and was pacing bitterly while ranting truths she had wished he left unspoken. When he finally did stop pacing he kept his back to her and leaned his weight against the sill of his window, keeping his troubled gaze out over the city in search of some peace. “Samuel, what happened?” she demanded. She stood on shaking legs and did her best to mimic Evie when she made any demand of the others around her. Head held high, arms firm at her sides, watching him somewhat down her nose the way she had seen her do so many times in stubborn standoffs with her husband or brother. It was unnatural and uncomfortable, but she hoped that she looked half as much a force to be reckoned with as the dark-headed Englishwoman. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What happened, you were friends, our </span>
  <em>
    <span>family</span>
  </em>
  <span>. What happened?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You need to leave. Go back to your expedition, resign, and go home. Stay out of trouble, Lissie.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll stay out of trouble if you tell me what is going on! You were always there to help us!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I was there to keep you out of the way!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Samuel spun around with enough force that his glasses nearly fell from his face. He screamed his words with anguished ferocity and stood shaking with his fists clenched at his sides. “I wanted you </span>
  <em>
    <span>out</span>
  </em>
  <span> of this life, safe! But you turned out just like him! He was always getting into things he didn’t need to be in. Always hiding something, or working to keep something secret. His </span>
  <em>
    <span>obsession</span>
  </em>
  <span> with those cursed </span>
  <em>
    <span>Medjai</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He spat his last word as if it carried the foulest taste and shuddered. “I wanted better for you. You shouldn’t have been in that fire. You didn’t deserve that, you weren’t a part of things then! Why do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>insist</span>
  </em>
  <span> on being a part of them now?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Samuel,” she spoke carefully as he returned to his pacing once again. She was no longer able to mimic Evie’s confidence or defiance, and instead found herself caught between falling back into her chair and trembling on her feet. “Samuel, d-did you set the fire? In the museum, that night, did you do it?” Tears streamed down her face and the ache that tightened her chest choked her as much as the smoke that had suffocated her the night those brutal flames devoured her grandfather. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Obstacles crumble within the flames,” he nodded and answered with shaking breath, and fresh tears of his own. He looked up at her with a sorrow that she had never seen in any human being before, save maybe Jonathan the night she left London. Their tears fell at equal rates, but she couldn’t fathom what he had to weep for. Hers was for the loss of her grandfather, and heartache of knowing the man she admired nearly as much was the man who had killed him. “I hoped our man would scare you out of this life in London, but you </span>
  <em>
    <span>just kept at it.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He took another aching breath and returned to his desk and she backed away from, eyes wide with horror. “It is my duty, Lissie,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you dare call me that,” she warned darkly. How dare he use her grandfather’s familiarity knowing what he had done? She continued to shake while a whole new range of emotions filled her soul but most strongly she began to feel an unbridled rage that was unfamiliar to her. Linda had taught her from the day they had met, anger, rage, these feelings were powerful but they were dangerous to the person wielding them. However, at that moment, she wanted nothing more than to ignore Linda’s teachings and operate on her own furious power. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes widened further and she took in a sharp gasp when Samuel had retrieved the item he sought within his desk. He looked at her with broken eyes, and his hand shook as he held the pistol, but the barrel aimed true for her heart. “Forgive me, please,” he begged in just barely a whisper, his hand trembling more as he stared not at her, but through her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Samuel, please, don’t do this,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Obstacles crumble within the flames, as do we all,” he nodded again and she closed her eyes and screamed as the echo of the gunshot deafened her, but she felt no pain. Not from the gun, at least. The sharp sting of fear and adrenaline was pain all of its own, however, as the scent of the oil from one of the lamps Samuel kept to light his study filled the air. She spun around to search for flames but found nothing, but when she turned back to see Samuel he had his pistol trained on the lit oil lamp beside the door behind her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She ran through the door of the study just as he fired again, this time sending ignited oil to the floor and down the wall, igniting the oil from his first shot in the process. She screamed again and kicked hysterically to remove her shoe after seeing some of the burning oil burning at her toe. She felt like her world was spinning all around her, and the dizzying sense of universal collapse she fought against was only stilled by the sound of more gunfire ringing out in the foyer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“LYSANDRA!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Her heart stopped while she second-guessed whether what she heard was real, but after the second round of gunfire and a repeated shout, she sprung to her feet and practically threw herself down the stairs into the foyer where Rick was screaming for her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As she rounded the corner through the doorway she screamed again as the wooden frame exploded a fraction of an inch from her head. Reeling from how close she had been to taking that bullet to the head, she collapsed to the floor and watched in horror as Rick and Ardeth fought back to back while a large number of cultists, some who she recognized as Samuel’s house staff, closed in around them. Her breaking point, however, was the man who stood with a rifle aimed at the medjai’s heart. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“ENOUGH! Stop it!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” she screamed with every bit of her fury and rage brought down the stairs from Samuel’s study. Her grief, her fear, everything was channeled into that word with a force that tore at her throat and burned her lungs. It was shrill, furious, and loud enough to bring a temporary halt to the would-be execution of her friends. It wasn’t just the screams of the furious woman who scrambled from the doorway, but of the wounded and betrayed six-year-old girl who just lost the last of her family all over again. “Andrew, that’s enough,” she added, quieter but with all the same seething rage as she stormed over and shoved Ardeth a few steps backward. She chose her position in front of him, wedging herself between Andrew’s rifle and Ardeth’s heart, and stared up at the man she had called her brother for as long as she could remember. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was quite a sight to be seen, standing with one shoe, a torn and dirty dress, flyaway curls defiantly disagreeing on which direction to stand out, and face set in a firm pursed expression while tears rolled down her face. She felt Ardeth’s hands on her shoulders, attempting to move her, but she brought her elbow back against his stomach and backed further against his chest to keep him in place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lissie, get out of the way. You can’t trust Medjai dogs. He’s no friend to you.” Andrew’s words dripped with hatred and only served to leave Lysandra’s blood running like ice through her veins. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” Her voice was quiet, low, and surprisingly even, but it was only the calm before the storm that raged inside her soul. Driven by a pain that ached from the inside out while she looked up at one of the few people she had placed on an equal pedestal to her grandfather and saw now only betrayal and deceit, she took a daring step forward and grabbed the barrel of Andrew’s rifle and pulled it flush against her chest. “Do it, Andrew. Do it! Pull the goddamn trigger, Andrew! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shoot me!” </span>
  </em>
  <span> Her defiant dares turned to screaming while she held her arms out like Christ on the cross. “What are you waiting for! You’d shoot him, so shoot me! We’re no different!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ardeth once again tried to move her but she spun around and shoved him hard against the wall with both hands before turning back to Andrew, walking up until the gun was once again against her chest. She shook and made no effort to stop her tears. Her breath came in quick and sharp gasps that only quickened when Andrew’s demand reached her ears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d choose this Medjai over your own family? </span>
  <em>
    <span>We </span>
  </em>
  <span>took you in! </span>
  <em>
    <span>We </span>
  </em>
  <span>protected you after your grandfather died!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>YOU </span>
  </em>
  <span>killed him!” she roared, stomping her foot and balling her fists up at her sides like a child having a tantrum, “You and Samuel, and your damned cult! You bastard!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Andy, what’s going on?” Rick’s question was nervously sing-song as he tried to keep up with the scene before him, but he was completely ignored. Her eyes never left Andrew’s who remained focused on her. She rushed Andrew again and pinned him to the wall by pushing the barrel of his gun once more against her chest and screamed taunts for him to shoot her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A tense silence fell over the room as the other cultists waited for orders, and Rick and Ardeth waited for the right opening to turn the odds of their fight in their favor. Finally, Andrew gave his answer by screaming violently at her and pulling his gun back enough to strike her across the face and send her falling to the floor. With a quick order to the others to leave the dogs to die together, he stormed out and set fire to the rest of the house on his way. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She didn’t look to see which of the men pulled her to her feet and out the door of the house. She didn’t care much who was pulling her. She was exhausted, and furious, and broken, and such a range of other things that all she wanted was to be left to lay in the sun until death claimed her. At least then she wouldn’t have to feel any longer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While Rick, Jonathan, and Alex had been out supply shopping earlier that day they had crossed paths with an exceptionally agitated Ardeth who explained his concerns for Lysandra and her trust in Samuel enough to wander the streets of Cairo alone. After hearing his concerns and the bad feeling he had for her safety, Rick had ordered Jonathan and Alex to go back to their rooms without him and set off with Ardeth to follow Lysandra in case he was right. They had just knocked and had the door to the Willington residence opened when Samuel’s first shot rang out. They forced themselves inside to find a crowd of cultists ready to come down on them for their intrusion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now they made their way through some less-populated routes of the city to the safety of their rooms, but rejoining their fellows was not the end to the ordeal brought on by Samuel’s betrayal. Lysandra’s quiet as she was pulled through the city was only the eye of the storm, and while she tried with everything she had to keep control, the second half of that storm was unleashed when Jonathan jumped to his feet to demand what had happened the moment they entered the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She directed her answer to Evie, gesturing to Ardeth with a simple, “He was right,” and tried to make her way to the bedroom to isolate herself, but that obviously wasn’t an option when Evie questioned what he was right about. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everything. Friends, allies, Samuel wasn’t… he- I can’t,” she took a breath and crumpled gracelessly to the floor, taking deep and rapid breaths as a new wave of tears built up in her eyes. “They killed him, they started the fire and killed him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Killed who? What fire?” Alex’s questions were nothing more than innocent curiosity, but Jonathan yanked him back by the shoulder and hushed him. She couldn’t hear him hiss the answers to his nephew. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everything in my life has been about this cult,” she brought her hands up to push her hair behind her ears and then covered her face with both hands and continued to speak muffled by her palms. “Granddad, the fire, Samuel,” she looked up at Jonathan as if he were the monster under the bed, “That man from the poker game, he was in on it. He worked for Samuel.” She groaned and fell backward to lay on the floor and pulled a pillow from the couch with her to hold over her face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh dear, that’s dreadful,” Evie frowned and sat in one of the chairs, unsure of what to say or do to help her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> been this angry!” Lysandra’s shout was heavily muffled by her pillow, but the screams she unleashed into the stuffing were more audible. Overcome with her own emotions, Lysandra lay under that pillow and screamed for a good ten minutes, until she had nothing left to scream. She cried her anger, her pain, her confusion, fear, so many things were sent out in those screams and tears that no words in any language could have said. No one else acknowledged her breakdown, even when she fell into silence again. When she finally pulled the pillow away from her face she had expected to see everyone staring back at her, but what she found was everyone had gone to the other sitting room in the adjoined room, respectfully giving her space. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you know, old girl, we’ve gotten you some new clothes for our trip into the desert. They’re left on the bed, should you want some quiet and time to yourself,” Jonathan called out as she sat up, but he was the only one who acknowledged her movement. She nodded a barely audible thanks and stumbled her way to the bedroom, excited to wash and dress in fresh clothing but without much drive for the effort, Instead, she fell face-first onto the bed, on top of the clothes, and stayed put until sleep claimed her. Every fiber of her being hoped that the worst of her heartaches was now over and that the rest of their mission would be better or at least easier to endure emotionally. She wasn’t sure how much more of this </span>
  <em>
    <span>adventuring</span>
  </em>
  <span> she could take. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she woke from her fitful and restless nap her anger had all but subsided. She could still feel herself shaking and her breath remained heavy. She slid to the floor beside the bed and leaned her head back against the frame and tried to find any sense of calm, but the only thing she found was her bag of “whats-its” as Jonathan so fondly named them. Candles, herbs (thankfully kept in tightly sealed jars, and left unharmed by their unexpected swim), trinkets, and stones. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She couldn’t hear anything but snoring from the other rooms, and all lights were off between them. She spent a good while staring at the bag, battling temptation, and weighing Linda’s teachings and advice, but the deep ache that tightened her chest and left her heartbeat so furious she felt it in her limbs was by far the loudest of the two sides in her silent debate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She breathed out a slow and controlled breath, exhaling every bit of air from her lungs and closed her eyes to find some sense of stability within herself. Her arm reached out and snatched the satchel like a viper striking to kill. She tore through the contents, setting her candles around herself, particularly careful to ensure their placement and order was exactly so and admired her work in silent contemplation for a moment before nodding in approval. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She removed her shoe to walk silently through the room filled with her sleeping friends in search of a particular journal she had brought for their research. While most of the pages were filled with careful notes written in Samuel’s hand, tucked away in the back of the book were pages filled with pictures she had drawn with Andrew in an effort to “help” him document his findings. When she found the book, she held it between her thumb and forefinger, as if it were the most disgusting and rotten thing to behold. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should rest, we will be leaving by sunrise.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She jumped like a startled cat and whipped around to face Ardeth as he sat in the doorway between the two rooms. His head was leaned against the doorframe behind him, eyes closed while he held his scimitar across his lap. This was the closest she had seen to him asleep since their meeting. He and Rick both had a habit of waking before anyone else, as well as falling asleep after everyone. “I’ll be fine.” She answered in a sharp whisper, not wanting to wake any of their sleeping comrades, and continued to tip-toe her way back to the bedroom to return to her work. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She muttered ancient prayers under her breath that she had learned from Linda and their family in the woods who chose to live away from the troubles” of town, and sprinkled a mixture of herbs from the bag around in a circle encompassing herself, the journal, and the candles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hated fire. She had hated fire since the day she lost her grandfather. Hate was an understatement that she often used, but the truth was she recoiled from the deepest parts of her very spirit at the sight of flames. Lamps, lanterns, campfires, hearth, and even candles; any flame to light and flicker filled her with a sense of dread. It was one of her deepest fears. However, it was a necessary discomfort and a worthy price to pay for the sense of justice she sought. While her hands trembled uncontrollably, she still found control enough to light a match and ignite the first wick. She prayed the same ancient prayers while lighting each candle in turn until she was surrounded by tiny dancing flames on all sides. With a deep breath, she held her hands out at her sides, palms up, and prayed again to ancient forces all but forgotten by the modern world. At the end of her whispered pleas, she began tearing pages out of the journal to burn over the flames of the candles, but as she went to ignite the first paper the candle was knocked over and stomped out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If Ardeth Bay had been intimidating on their first meeting, staring up at him as he loomed over her circle, illuminated only by the flickering lights of her candles was inherently terrifying. The shadows cast over his face only served to highlight his already sharp features, and intensify the disapproving glare he held as he kicked the candle to roll away from her circle, cursing her work in his own language but she didn’t need to understand his words to know their meaning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go away, Ardeth, this isn’t about you,” she demanded from her place on the floor. She expected a fight. To have to defend herself against him as he, like so many people in her life, came down on her with condemnation and righteous fury for her practices. Tying up a protection amulet for Alex to help him sleep was a parlor trick compared to the seriousness of the ritual he had interrupted and they both knew it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You cannot do this.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t even know what </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> is. And don’t start with telling me I’m going to hell, because buddy, I am already there.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He surprised her by sitting across from her, not to scorn or to threaten her as she expected, but to pull the pages out of her hands, and further disrupt her circle. “What you are doing will set in motion things you cannot control; you can not surrender to this anger and hatred-”</span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> them to suffer, Ardeth. I want them to feel every bit of pain they’ve caused! They </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>to pay for what they did.” She damned herself for the wavering in her voice as bitter tears sprang to life once again. She fought against his grasp in a stubborn tug-of-war for the last remaining page of Samuel’s journal but eventually surrendered, unable to fight against his grasp and her emotions at the same time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They will. In stopping their master’s return, we will take everything from them they strive for; they will suffer defeat beyond anything you feel now.” His voice was surprisingly gentle, though mainly due to the attempts not to rouse their counterparts. His accent was intensified by the quiet of his words and so distracted her from her argument as she had to focus more on listening to understand. He reached a hand up to her shoulder and gave a light squeeze, and nodded firmly with his order, “Now sleep. No more of this.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She took a breath to argue but breathed out in defeat as he had already begun cleaning up her things. There was no room for argument. He held the demeanor of the highest-ranking commander and used every bit of his authority to end their discussion. However, he was not as cold as she had expected him to be. Once her circle was satisfactorily destroyed, he turned his attention to clearing the clothing off of the bed. He reached his hand out to help her to her feet and guided her toward the bed before repeating his assurance that Samuel and Andrew </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> in fact pay for their betrayal. She tried her best to find comfort enough to sleep once he left her alone to return to his post, but her thoughts raced with the speed of a racehorse until the sun began to peek over the horizon. Only as the room began to bathe in the orange glow of the desert sunrise did exhaustion finally take hold of her and her eyes drift closed to the sounds of the others beginning their waking routines in the other rooms. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much to those who commented on the last chapter. I truly adore reading your thoughts on this story! Please, don't be afraid to comment or message me your thoughts! I appreciate you all for sharing this story with me! </p><p>My semester will be starting back up at university soon, so my updates may slow, but I assure you this story is going to keep going strong! Also, I am celebrating an incredible accomplishment that I wanted to share with *someone* so here I am! I earned a scholarship and I don't have to worry about paying for school this semester at all! I am so excited and so proud of this. I can't even put it into words!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Lysandra felt like she had only had her eyes closed for a few minutes before Alex came in to wake her. The sun hadn’t risen high enough yet to blind her through the window as it had done the previous morning, and for that she was thankful, but she couldn’t bring herself to more than her place seated on the edge of the bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even as the others busied themselves to prepare to leave the comforts of modern civilization and venture into the harshness of the desert and into forgotten ruin, which she knew she should be doing as well, she sat and stared blankly at the wall in front of her. On any other morning, she would have volunteered the lion’s share of the work, excited for their adventure to </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> begin, and wanting to help her friends as much as possible with the knowledge that her survival skills would be useless from here on. However, she couldn’t find the energy to do much more than breathe. Her throat still ached and her head throbbed from a sleepless night of screaming and interrupted curses. Her eyes still burned from past tears and the threat of new ones to fall. The worst ailment she faced, however, was the feeling in her core that she couldn’t fully place. Caught somewhere between numb emptiness and the kind of pain that forms in the soul and causes the heart to ache, all she could manage to do was sit, and stare at nothing, and force herself to breathe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know you don’t much feel like it, but we’ll be set to leave soon. How about one for the road?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She slowly turned her eyes up to look at Jonathan as he approached the bed while waving a flask, intent on sitting beside her. She started to reply but the words wouldn’t form, and so she shook her head and looked back toward the wall again. “Listen, Andy, we’re all worried about you. I lost the draw and came to fetch you, but do you think you’ll be able to make it? Out there, I mean? You’re barely able to handle this room from the looks of it. Battling ancient curses and risen mummies, it’s rough work.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She took a ragged breath and snatched the flask from his hand without looking back at him. She couldn’t see the satisfied smile her actions earned as she took several long drinks and held the flask in her lap. If caring encouragement wouldn’t get her to move, ‘admitting’ that he wasn’t sure she could handle things certainly would. “Breakfast of champions, that,” he nodded happily and nudged her with his shoulder before he stood and clapped his hands. The sudden sound startled her enough that she jumped and turned to face him. Her bed-head curls bounced around her shoulders, and that one dreaded section fell into her eyes and went ignored while she stared at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right, well, up and at ‘em now. It’ll be the cavalry coming in next! Best clean up!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra suddenly remembered the mess she had left scattered around the room after Ardeth ordered her to bed. While the pain and bitterness were just as strong as it had been the night before, her mind was not as clouded by her rage, and she knew that there would be questions and concerns from the others if they saw the remnants of her disrupted activities the night before. She quickly moved to collect her things before anyone could notice or suspect the previous night’s activities to find that everything had already been cleared away and packed up, and neatly set along the wall farthest from her bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh good, you are awake. I hope my brother wasn’t too much of a bother when he came to wake you. There’s still time before we’ll leave if you want to bathe and change into your new clothes. I know I always feel better after a nice bath.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked up to see Evy smiling in the doorway, dressed in her fitted pants and a sleeveless blouse that left Lysandra feeling a twinge of insecurity as she subconsciously compared herself to the Englishwoman. Sleeveless anything was not an option for her, and she had been jealous of anyone who could wear their curls and waves down and not look as if they had survived an electric chair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gave a soft smile and pushed some of her more unruly curls behind her ears and nodded. “He’s always a bother,” she tried to joke but it took far too much effort to get her voice to an audible volume. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, well, that </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> true.” Evy’s fond acknowledgment of her brother’s faults came with a smile as she made her way across the room and into the small bathroom attached at the other side. Lysandra could hear the water running on the other side and felt an instant pit of guilt when Evy returned to announce that her bath was ready and encouraged her to get washed up and feel better before they had to leave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evy was right about the comforts of a nice bath, especially after everything that had led up to that morning. For a while she felt detached from the stresses and cares that plagued her thoughts while she submerged as much of her body as possible in the hot water. As an added gift, Eve had added some perfumed oil to the water which did wonders to ease the throbbing in her head and soreness in her muscles. She would have stayed there until the water went cold if the others hadn't been waiting for her. Not wanting to delay their departure she begrudgingly expedited her bath but spent a little extra effort on her hair than she would have even under normal circumstances. There was no way of knowing when she would have the luxury of properly washing her hair again, and she wanted to indulge while she had the opportunity. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was surprised at the amount of clothes that had been brought for her. Some were similar to what Evy wore, with light brown fitted trousers, boots suitable for their coming venture, and a comfortable sleeveless blouse. Another option was a lightweight cream-colored ankle-length cotton skirt, and long sleeved white cotton shirt. Folded beside the clothes was a new scarf more suitable for their travels than what she had brought to keep her hair out of her face while working. This one was long enough to be wrapped in a way to protect her face from the elements while traveling, whereas the one she had been wearing was just large enough to tie into her hair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> While she was thankful for the gifts, she couldn’t bring herself to wear anything that showed so much of her arms and chest and opted for the long sleeves. Caught between knowing the need for functionality in their venture she knew that the trousers were the better choice, but even in its simplicity, the skirt was beautiful. She had always preferred dresses but rarely had the chance of getting new ones from the shops. Almost everything she wore was made either by Linda or one of their close friends. She always felt better about herself when wearing something she thought to be pretty as if the clothes somehow made her prettier as well.  Unable to make a decision, in the end, she opted for both and wore the trousers under the skirt. With the boots, there was no way to tell the layers she wore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last thing she needed to do before she would be ready to rejoin the others was to tame her hair. Unlike Evy, she couldn’t leave it down and be happy with it. She had never liked the look of her hair. So much so that for her tenth birthday had asked Linda to find someone to cast a spell and give her straight hair. Linda, in true fashion of herself, did the exact opposite and put her own hair in curlers so that when she woke on her birthday, Linda’s hair was an absolute mane of unruly curls. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Wild girls have wild hair, Sprout.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And civilized girls learn how to braid,” she muttered with a quiet laugh in retort to her memory and plaited her hair into a neat braid before finishing off her attire by hiding Linda’s gifted amulet securely around her neck to hang inside her shirt over her heart. Evy had been right about feeling better after freshening up, and while even just thinking of Samuel brought tears and bitter fury to the surface, she felt human again, and even a hint of excitement over hunting for ancient relics alongside her new friends. She checked over her appearance one last time. She didn’t look terrible, much to her surprise considering how she felt. Finding nothing left to justify any delay in joining the others she reluctantly made her way into the shared sitting rooms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, see? What did I tell you? She went with the skirt, pay up young man!” Jonathan gloated the moment she stepped into the room. She tilted her head curiously while he prodded at Alex’s shoulder, who rolled his eyes and swatted his uncle’s hand away before handing over a piece of chocolate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will warn you, as I’ve tried this in very similar dress before, it will be easier without the skirt,” Evy nodded seriously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I said! I thought for sure she’d want to be dressed more like mum!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, wait,” Lysandra cut in while holding her hands up as if to surrender against the barrage of comments, “one, Jonathan, you’re a horrible influence and if Alex were my son I’d beat you for encouraging him to bet; gambling is worse for you than drinking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Two, you’re both wrong, and neither of you won the bet, so give him his candy back.” She turned to Evy and pulled the hem of her skirt up to show the pants hidden underneath, “Three, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> wearing the pants.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you think you’ll be too warm? It’s bloody hot out there, and you opted for long sleeves </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> extra layers.” Jonathan’s brows knit together while he considered his various concerns, especially when she raised her brows and gestured toward Ardeth as if he had asked the dumbest question ever spoken.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He wears sleeves and layers, and seems to have done just fine Jon.” She still had to strain to make her voice heard and knew that if she continued to push her voice she would lose it completely. To preserve her ability to speak she chose to ignore him when he argued, but it was quite apparent that it took all of her self control to do so. Bickering with Jonathan was a weakness of hers as much as sweets were when she was a child. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Walking through the city to the outskirts where Rick had their mode of transportation waiting went quickly and with little excitement. Lysandra was less easily distracted this time without being as energetic and enamoured with everything around her. Learning Samuel’s true affiliations had drained the splendor from Cairo for her. She couldn’t wait to leave the city and the heartache it had brought her behind and venture into the vast landscape that awaited her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As they reached their arranged means of travel Lysandra took a few steps backward and awkwardly latched her fingers behind her back while chewing on the corner of her bottom lip. There were several modes of transport she had experienced in her life, having traveled often in search of answers to her grandfather’s questions, but camels had not been one of them. In fact, until that moment she had never seen a camel apart from pictures and was dismayed to discover just how much she had underestimated their size. While everyone else approached them to load their belongings and mount their chosen beast her feet stayed firmly planted in place. Even though her hair was securely braided out of her face, she still went through the motion of pushing it behind her ears and began to nervously fidget when urged to hurry up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It-It’s okay,” she nodded finally after much “encouragement” from her fellows, straining her voice to be heard from their distance, “I feel pretty good right now, I think I’ll walk and when I get too tired try to um, try to ride.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The blank stares she received in response did nothing for her sense of confidence. The only person who wasn’t watching her as if waiting for her to admit a joke and climb into the seat was Alex, who smiled in amusement at her fear of camels. True to her word, she walked behind their small caravan as they started out and left the comforts of the city behind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s my understanding that in order to summon Imhotep’s spirit they need to conduct a series of rituals both to prepare the host for sacrifice and to summon our old friend’s soul from the afterlife into the body of the host,” Evy explained as they traveled. Lysandra could only just hear her from her distance behind the camels. “I believe their first step is to locate this text before they can do anything else. That’s good for us, if we can find it first. This whole deal might be over rather quickly.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Honey, I love you, but you’re delusional,” Rick retorted with a shake of his head. Evy scoffed and turned in her seat to face him, clearly insulted by his comment. “I just mean, when is it ever that simple? Sure, I’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>like</span>
  </em>
  <span> to just snag this book or whatever and go home a winner, but I think we all know there’s going to be mummies, or god-soldiers, or some other horrible thing trying to kill us the entire time we’re out here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, excuse me for being hopeful Rick.” She turned back and pushed her camel to a faster gait to put distance between herself and her husband. The group fell into silence for a while after Alex ended their conversation by snickering, “Good one, dad,” at his father’s expense. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a mile of travel, Lysandra found herself stumbling and fighting exhaustion, but was far too stubborn to admit that her choice to walk was a bad decision. Whenever asked how she was doing, she’d either wave, give a thumbs up, or answer “fine” and pushed on. Everyone saw straight through her attempted acting, but it became a curiosity among everyone else to see how long she would make it before she relented and chose to ride a camel. Another mile and she had stopped verbally answering their inquiries and only waved them off. After three miles she had stopped acknowledging them completely, and after four she stumbled and fell face-first against the hard ground. It was at that point that Alex had lost interest in his curiosity of seeing how long she would last, and voiced his agitation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my </span>
  <em>
    <span>god</span>
  </em>
  <span>, just get on the camel already!” he shouted while dramatically rolling not only his eyes, but his entire head, back while she pushed herself back to her feet and dusted herself off. She pointed a finger at him and glared a warning that required no words, but Evy filled the silence for her by scorning her son. It seemed everyone had a different response to her fall. Jonathan quipped a few jokes at her expense like the obnoxious thorn in her side he tended to be. Since her voice was still weak, and only weaker after chasing their camels through the Sahara.  In lieu of a vocal retort to his jest she armed herself with a small rock and sent it flying straight to its mark to bounce off his chest. She stood with her hands on her hips, proud of her shot, and watched as he stammered and threatened revenge. Ardeth openly laughed while Jonathan nearly fell from his camel in his offended ramblings about his accuracy and championship shooting to defend his wounded pride. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rick, however, had dismounted his camel and brazenly strode up to her to stand toe-to-toe with her. She was a stubborn woman, raised by a stubborn grandfather and taken in by an even more stubborn old woman. However, being nearly a foot shorter than him, it was difficult to confidently standoff against Mr. O’Connell. She took a few steps back and looked up at him while he pointed behind him to the camels. “Just get on the damn camel.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine, and we don’t have time to stand here and argue about it so let’s just go.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, we’ll go, when you get on that camel.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Rick,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Andy,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While Jonathan almost always had as much to say at her expense as he did his own sister, he also preferred to be the only one acting at her expense as well. Seeing the immediate discomfort and change in her demeanor left him calling out to his brother-in-law to calm down and discuss things as adults. With every step Rick took toward her she took two backward to maintain their distance. He had already thrown her off a boat to nearly drown in the Nile, and she didn’t trust his stance in the slightest. Luckily, Evy stepped in to quell her husband’s antics and rescue Lysandra. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t mind him, he can be a bit brash, especially when he worries.” Evy’s explanation came with genuine sympathy while Rick returned to his camel and grumbled about traveling with stubborn and strong-minded women. Lysandra only nodded and maintained her safe distance from the camels while Evy returned to her seat, and followed once again as they trekked across the vast emptiness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If she were walking at her own pace, she might have found the experience far more enjoyable. The dusty scent of the hot, sun-warmed earth, the way the view mimicked fine art and paintings in all directions, the unhindered blueness of the cloudless sky, if she were walking her own pace she could have leisurely enjoyed it all. However, she was forced to keep all of her focus on keeping up with her camel-riding counterparts. A task that, as the day went on, she began to fail. This time, instead of falling to the ground, she simply fell into a slower gait and watched as her friends moved farther and farther ahead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“At this rate, you will not survive even the beginning of our journey,” Ardeth announced after they had stopped to let her catch up. She hesitated and looked up at the massive creatures as if the one she would be riding would bite her head from her shoulders. She knew he was right though, if she kept up the way she had been, she wouldn’t last more than a few days and reluctantly agreed to ride. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took Evy and Rick both to help her onto the camel, one to guide her and the other to keep her steady and prevent her from falling off the other side. She felt fairly confident once she was solid in her seat, but as soon as the camel moved she yelped and held onto anything she could reach for. She was a clumsy, frightened mess, but even so, it was better than walking. She could barely ride a horse and had only done so a handful of times, and out of those times, she had fallen off the horse twice. From where she sat, the camel moved a lot more than the horses and with every movement, she worried she would fall. It was a welcome rest for her body in terms of no longer carrying her weight, but she certainly was not able to relax. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, the first time we did this, we even slept on these things. You get quite used to the filthy beasts, almost fond of them, actually.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gritted her teeth while watching Jonathan sit unnecessarily tall in his seat to prove a point about his skill in camel riding. Unseen forces brought justice before her retorts could come to voice, and he nearly fell off the camel’s back himself. “You sit too far forward. No one rides a camel on its head, lean back more and you will be more comfortable,” Ardeth called over his shoulder just a few strides ahead of her. She couldn’t tell if he was teasing her or genuinely trying to help her but leaned toward the latter when Evy came up beside her to hold her seat steady and allow her to move. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are rather far forward, I imagine that isn’t comfortable for either of you,” she frowned while coaxing Lysandra to move backward to a normal position for camel riding. Once properly adjusted the ride became a lot easier and after several hours she was even able to relax and almost enjoy herself had she not still carried so much worry over falling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had intended to travel through the night and make as much headway as possible toward a mark on a map Ardeth had come across on their first night in Cairo that would, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hopefully</span>
  </em>
  <span>, lead them to the text needed to thwart the plans of the cultists. However, as the sun began to dip down below the horizon their party came to a stop at the edge of a cliff to look down over what seemed like endlessness in all directions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rick was the first to speak and waved a hand to demand the map. “How many miles off course do we need to go to get down there?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This cliff goes on for miles but there may be a way down to the north. Half a day’s ride, at least.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex groaned and let his head fall backward. Once again Lysandra related more to him than the composure of the other adults, but she kept her dramatic complaints inside for the time being. She knew that what she had gotten involved with would be anything but a leisurely vacation and hoped to convince the others around her that she was in fact cut out for their mission, but she was not off to a good start. It was also no help that every so often she would think of Samuel holding that pistol the night before as he admitted his crimes against her grandfather, or of wedging herself between Ardeth’s chest and Andrew’s gun. Her chest ached all over again and fresh tears came to her eyes each time. She couldn’t have been more wounded if she had found them dead in their home that day.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She tuned the others out while they discussed their best plan of action and chose to enjoy her first sunset in the great desert instead. The reds, oranges, pinks, and yellows often painted the sky at such an hour were intensified by the reflected glow on golden sands and stone as the colors faded upward into the inky darkness of the coming night sky. Even while surrounded by her companions, as she watched the sun tuck itself beneath the horizon she felt alone and minuscule against its splendor, like the smallest ant against the universe.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was pulled out of the trance-like state she had fallen into by Jonathan and Alex shouting her name in unison. The sudden yelling startled her enough that she jumped and turned to face them, but in doing so lost her balance and slid from the back of her camel to lying on her back against the hard stone that built their overlook. Just as the two worked in unison to startle her, they laughed in unison at her expense, and she refused to move from her newly-planted location. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I guess that gives her vote, we’ll stay here for the night and head out again in the morning,” Rick announced while dismounting in a much more graceful manner than she had. Since they were so out in the open it was decided that they would only set up the minimum to camp for the night and forego the fire to lower their chances of being seen. They moved farther from the ledge for a slightly more defensible position, and Lysandra, Evy, and Jonathan set to work setting out bedrolls and canteens as well as food provisions for the night while Rick and Ardeth looked around for potential threats, risks, and escape routes in the event of an attack. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While the two men’s guard-like behavior seemed to be a comfort to the others, Lysandra only got more anxious while watching them. She was anything but a soldier, and apart from screaming at Andrew to shoot her through the heart, had not done well against their enemies thus far. If they were to be attacked, she knew that her presence would be more of a hindrance than a help when the inevitable need to fight came. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How much do you know about this text we’re supposed to be finding?” Lysandra needed something to distract her from nervously staring at Rick or Ardeth to see if they noticed any dangers. If her experience had taught her anything thus far, it was that a question like that would have her and Evy soon both engrossed in their research and exchanges of story and legends. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not much, unfortunately. The books and journals only mention carvings of metal and stone where stolen incantations from priests and temples were written. One particular spell is said to pull a soul or spirit from the afterlife and feed the soul of a willing sacrifice to it before the summoned soul can inhabit the new body.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>“Linda talked about that once,” she nodded while searching her memories for those old stories, “she said that there were people, holy men, who were considered immortal because their souls would transfer from body to body. She said that there was a difference between reincarnation, and sacrificing one soul for another, and she considers those sacrifices and the people who carry them pure evil. She also said that she had a lot of business to handle about those spells, but that I shouldn’t ever have to worry because these people were too far away from our home. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span> <span>“I guess she never expected me to chase them across the world, huh?”</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Likely not, but she seems to have been more involved in all this than she let on.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Linda is involved in a lot of things, and none of them at the same time. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Everything</span>
  </em>
  <span> is Linda’s business,” Lysandra laughed and shook her head sadly. This journey would have been a lot easier with that Old Oak along for the ride. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, well, let’s hope the old bird doesn’t share any affiliations with your last friend shall we?” Both Evy and Lysandra glared at Jonathan who retracted his statement with all the quick awkwardness of a proper English gentleman who had inserted far too much of his foot into his mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the night went on and the heat of the day was erased by the cool, and eventually downright cold, of night their party members one-by-one retreated to the safety of their bedding. Alex huddled with Evy for warmth and comfort, though she wasn’t sure who sought more comfort in their cuddling, the child or his mother who held him like Lysandra’s stuffed bear. Jonathan had buried himself in his bedding and went silent for the night shortly after his comment about Linda’s affiliations. Lysandra sat on top of her bedding, wrapped in the scarf she had been given. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s warmer </span>
  <em>
    <span>under</span>
  </em>
  <span> the blankets,” Rick announced while making his return from patrolling the area around their camp. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know, I’m just thinking,” she nodded quietly. As he found a place beside Evy and exercised all possible caution not to wake her, Lysandra busied herself with adjusting her sleeve to take the seam away from her shoulder. He grumbled quietly while trying to situate his guns so that he could rest with some comfort while keeping them at the ready, and finally signed his relief to celebrate his achievement.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why do you carry so many guns? I saw your bag, the one with all of the other guns in it.”</span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded but made no effort to sit up or open his eyes. “Evy asked the same question when we met. They made her nervous, too. Then, I was leading her and Jonathan to a place where everyone I had been with the first time died. The second time I had to deal with these people, they took my son. Every time this bastard comes back up, I try to be a little more prepared. I don’t plan on dealing with him a fourth time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” Between her sore throat and the awkwardness of not knowing how to reply, her voice fell to a quiet whisper as she thought over his words.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about you? You didn’t even bring clothes, just jars of herbs, and trinkets, and old books. There’s got to be a story behind those priorities.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, you shoot at your problems, and I have a more indirect approach. Mostly I was panicking while packing up, and I didn’t want to forget anything I might need later. I didn’t really know what we were getting into. I thought it was going to be the same thing I usually do, bounce library to library, and read old things to find older things. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t expect gunfights and jumping ships.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well sweetheart, it gets weirder, I promise you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evy stirred in her sleep and moved closer to Rick and muttered, “Calling other women ‘sweetheart’ now, are we?” Lysandra fell into content silence and allowed Rick to drift off to sleep while she contemplated her situation. She carried a sudden mistrust in every life experience she could recall, and the more she thought about her situation the less she trusted in those experiences. The death of her parents when she was an infant, being raised by her grandfather who had her practically living in the museum with him, the fire that stole him from her, everything Linda had taught her, every relic she searched for in her grandfather’s name, everything seemed to tie into a centuries-old mystery against a cult that until just days ago, she had no knowledge of. Her final visit with Linda and Sideways Jack seemed like it had happened years ago, rather than barely a week. She couldn’t help but feel a sense of anger and bitterness as her sense of control over her own life dwindled. How was she any different than a puppet being controlled by the universe?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As she sat and stewed on her bitter musings she eventually fell asleep. She remained in her sitting position for quite a while, but slowly as the night went on she rolled forward into herself for warmth, and eventually reached the point that her head was touching the ground in front of her. Cross-legged with her legs tucked under herself, arms tucked inward around her middle, back hunched over and head on the ground if she hadn’t have been breathing she would have looked just like a sack of luggage in the dark. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her mind raced through countless pieces of information from scenes of ancient legends, to lessons in the ‘old ways’ from Linda, to research and findings throughout her life. Some things she saw in her dreams were things she had known, others she had forgotten, and only just recalled. However, when she was forced to wake with the others just hours before sunrise, she felt a renewed sense of determination for their adventure. As well as renewed pain in every muscle of her body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You slept like a rock,” Rick smirked while she groaned and tried to force herself to stand at her full height. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I feel like I slept </span>
  <em>
    <span>under</span>
  </em>
  <span> a rock.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, darling, I believe he means you slept in the position of a rock. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>literally</span>
  </em>
  <span> slept like a rock… Who sleeps like that anyway? You looked like a beetle.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jonathan, the sun isn’t even up yet. It’s too early for you to be allowed to talk,” she grumbled and rolled up her unused bedding and cautiously approached her camel to tie her things down properly and be ready to move again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Someone’s woken up on the wrong side of the sand.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jonathan!” She turned and faced him and pointed into the darkness over the cliff’s edge. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> push you over that cliff, and tell everyone it was an accident. Stop. Talking.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jonathan dared to continue to push the envelope and test her temper but was silenced when Rick grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him toward the camels. “Shut up, and get on the camel, and don’t talk until the sun is up,” he warned. He then turned to Lysandra and sighed, knowing all too well why she had procrastinated saddling up with the others. “And you, get over here so we can get you on a camel and get out of here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The entire party felt as though they had only gotten an hour or so of rest before continuing their journey, but shared agreement that starting their day before the sun’s heat fully set in would make things much easier on them in the long run. However, the movement of the camel coupled with the dark and quiet of the early morning, took no time at all to lull Lysandra back to sleep no matter how much she fought to stay awake. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hello friends! My updates may slow down with the start of my semester coming up, but I will do my best to keep this story going. I love it too much to let it end until the ending is due. You also may notice that I changed the way I spell Evy's name, I discovered that I had been spelling it wrong for 5 chapters now, and decided to correct my error. As always, don't be afraid to leave your thoughts! I love hearing from you! Much love, everyone!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>After several days of traveling with a seemingly endless distance, ahead the overall mood of the expedition had taken a turn for the worst. Between the discomfort of being on the back of a camel for days, sometimes through the night without stopping, and the stress of beating the cultists to a remote shrine hidden somewhere in a rocky region of the largest desert in the world, any additional inconvenience was a grating torment. Lysandra couldn’t fathom how they had made it so far by the guide of a crudely drawn map, or how they planned to find something that no one knew the looks of. According to their navigation, which she had no part of, they should arrive at their destination by nightfall the following day and begin their search for the mystery text. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Since there was no way of telling how much work said search would entail they had decided to set up camp among the rocky outcrops and rest. While initially most party members celebrated the luxury of resting for an entire evening, the startling reality was that having so much time to rest was excruciatingly boring. Even Ardeth seemed increasingly restless to the lack of tasks to be done and busied his time with patrolling the area when he could no longer stand the stillness and quiet of their camp. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra remedied the boredom for herself and Alex by setting up a small game with various sized stones and pebbles. They sat across from each other, each with a collection of stones and observed the three-by-three grid she had marked out while placing their stones strategically in each small square. Every so often one would call a number and throw a stone into the grid and either celebrate and collect a stone or two or accept defeat and surrender their stones. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now who is the bad influence and teaching him to gamble?” Jonathan scoffed as Alex huffed and threw a handful of stones to Lysandra. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well if you were paying attention, you would know this is a game of strategy and accuracy, and not chance.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And what does the victor win in the end? What’s the wager?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Rocks, I guess,” Alex shrugged while Lysandra tossed her rocks into the farthest square from herself. The stones all bounced out of their mark, and Alex gleefully collected them for his own collection. “See, the goal is to have more points on the board than the other person. Each size is worth a different amount. The small ones are one, the bigger ones are five. Each place on the board changes how much things are worth. Right in front of you is worth half, the middle is whole, and the far bits are double.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra nodded while he gave his demonstration by boldly throwing three large stones to the farthest squares from himself. “See, two went where they were supposed to, and one bounced out. Each column is numbered, one, two, and three. In order to get your points, you have to call out the column number you’re aiming for. So, he owes me the points that missed his target. So his total is twenty points, </span>
  <em>
    <span>but</span>
  </em>
  <span> he loses ten and I get to keep the stone that bounced out.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When does the game end?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When one of us reaches the hundred point mark. But at fifty, we have to move back a step each round.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jonathan sat and watched the game continue, soon excitedly rooting for his nephew with each throw. Before long their little game had become the source of entertainment for the camp, but the jeers, cheers, and jests from their onlookers only served to distract and complicate things for the competitors. Especially once Alex and Lysandra were on their feet tossing rocks from several feet away from the board. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Column 3, thirty points and I win,” she taunted while taking aim at her target. The camp was silent while she calculated and made her throw to win the game. The clattering of the stones echoed through the quiet tension soon broken by Alex’s childish shouting while Lysandra dramatically fell to her knees as all but one stone came to a rest outside of their targeted zone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That makes </span>
  <em>
    <span>ten</span>
  </em>
  <span> points left for me! And I…” Alex carefully took aim with his two stones and tossed for the center space, “Win! </span>
  <em>
    <span>YES!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” The camp applauded Alex’s victory while he cheered and collected the stones as his trophies and Lysandra ceremoniously bowed to her victor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the camp settled from their tournament Alex basked in the congratulations from his family as well as some sound aiming advice from his father, and maybe not-so-sound advice from his uncle. Neither set of advice had been asked for, but both were accepted graciously. She enjoyed watching the family laugh together and share the rare lighthearted moment in their journey. They could have been sharing a Sunday brunch in the park for all their jokes and comfort was concerned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You seem troubled by your defeat.” She hadn’t noticed Ardeth standing beside her while she watched the O’Connells and she didn’t turn to face him when he spoke. He could see the frown she tried to hide while she bit down on her lip. They hadn’t spoken much or interacted much at all since he had interrupted her casting circle. Then again, she hadn’t interacted much at all unless someone else initiated the conversation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not really, he needed this. He’s smart, and he’s strong, and I think we forget he’s still just a kid. He deserves time to be a kid. You never know how long they have.” She let her eyes focus on a rock a few feet in front of them and brought her arms around her middle. He watched her for a while, recognizing tells of hers that spoke far more than her words were willing. Whatever was troubling her was more than grieving Samuel and Andrew. When she did finally look up at him her eyes were red and glossy with the threat of tears but none dared fall. Instead, she smiled, and leaned back against a large rock and adjusted her sleeve. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When we get to this wherever-it-is we’re going, what should I expect?” She tilted her head to the side and ignored the lock that had broken free of it’s binds to fall over her eye. “I mean I know </span>
  <em>
    <span>about</span>
  </em>
  <span> expeditions, but this isn’t like that, is it? Will they be waiting for us? How… how can I know how to keep us safe?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There is never a way of knowing what is waiting for us. If there is danger we will put a stop to it, but it does no good to worry about things we cannot predict.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you rehearse that answer?” The corners of her mouth tightened into a pursed, sarcastic smile and shook her head. While he did nothing to ease her nervousness over the unknown, his willingness to speak to her did ease other concerns. She could tell by watching him that her attempt to act naturally and unbothered was failing miserably. While he was by far not the easiest person to read, she had gotten much better at understanding him after spending days on end together despite the lack of interaction. She rolled her eyes and signed, conceding defeat, and tried to open up about the true concerns she had been carrying.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Listen, about the night after Samuel, well, when you stopped me from doing what I was going to do,” she pulled at her sleeve and began to fidget with her skirt, looking anywhere by at him while she spoke, “w-well thank you. I mean, for intervening, and talking me out of it, a-and for cleaning up. You didn’t have to do that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nodded toward the others and shifted to a more comfortable stance while she shrank back against the rock she leaned against. “They would have had several questions that I imagine you would rather not answer.” She bit down on her lip and nodded, like a scorned child waiting to hear what her punishment would be. She adjusted her sleeve again and took a deep breath while looking around at the rock formations in an attempt to avoid looking at him while struggling to get the words she wanted to speak to form but he spoke again before she had the chance. “Your actions were from pain and anger. I may not understand or agree with your actions, but I don’t fault you for them.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A couple of tears escaped her guard while she fought to keep her composure and she nodded and cleared her throat before trying to speak, but it did little to prevent the emotional waiver of her voice. “Thank you… I don’t want you thinking I’m like Samuel or the people he works with. I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You apologized to the camel for stepping on its foot and begged its forgiveness. I would be less surprised if the desert flooded into a great sea than if you were to become like our enemies.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just didn’t mean to hurt him!” Her voice raised in pitch as she defended her actions but he simply gestured toward her as she confirmed his point.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> She had started to speak again but stopped short and sat in silence instead. He kept the small smile that pulled the corners of his mouth and nodded smugly as if he had won an argument and turned his attention look around the rock formations that surrounded them, just barely squinting against the setting sun. It was rare that she had the chance to see him so relaxed even as he scanned their surroundings for signs of opposing forces. The way the darkening sun played across his features and highlighted his tattooed markings resembled a painting. It was a sentiment she had appreciated several times since meeting the desert, and every day she had found some new beauty to marvel at or appreciate. Had it not been for the wind that whispered through the rocks and gently tugged at his hair and clothes she could have been convinced that he was an elaborate statue. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should blink or the desert wind will dry your eyes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her heart skipped a beat in panic as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye and she sat, almost statuesque herself. Her eyes stayed wide, reflecting highlights of the sunset in the lighter flecks of gold in her eyes. It was rare that her eyes were still long enough to notice their color, as she most often was distractedly glancing around at things she found interesting or had her eyes downcast while she read her grandfather’s journal. Their time in the desert had left its mark on her skin, leaving a pink tinge across her nose and cheeks that intensified both with the oranges of the setting sun, and the added pink that crept over the tips of her ears. She went through the motion of tucking her hair behind her ears despite the fact it was tightly bound in its firm braid and bounced on her toes once or twice while once again looking anywhere except for him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The wind blew your hair a mess.” She gave a twitch of a nod and raised her brows. The muscles around her mouth fought to form the faintest hint of a smile that showed in her eyes more than anything. She couldn’t admit that she had been caught admiring him the same way she so often admired the scenery. The only salvation she could bring to mind was to give him the same treatment as she gave Jonathan and give a playful insult to change the subject. Before he could offer any sort of reply she announced that she had things to do, not bothering to support her excuse by saying </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> pressing matters needed her attention, and retreated into the labyrinth of stone outcroppings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She remained scarce until the last rays of the sun disappeared from view, and the cool of night set in. While she had secretly worried that she had gotten lost, the small fire that crackled and illuminated their small camp was like a beacon to guide her home. “You know, it’s a lot warmer </span>
  <em>
    <span>closer</span>
  </em>
  <span> to the fire than it is all the way across the desert.” Her eyes snapped up at Jonathan’s smirking jest but she continued to wrap herself in her blanket and plant herself firmly at her safe distance from the flames. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Blankets are just as warm.” She pulled at her sleeve for a moment and settled in comfortably with no intention of moving again for the rest of the night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know you’ve been through a lot when it comes to fire, but it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> safe to move closer if you’re cold. That’s sort of the point of it, to keep us warm.” Rick sat with his arsenal bag open and inspected his weaponry to be sure everything was in working order. She watched him for a while and wondered what the coming day would bring. While the early evening was spent with laughter and a chance to rest and recover their energy, the atmosphere of the night took a much different turn. Evy spent every second with Alex, giving advice and making plans for if they were to be separated or if, god forbid, something happened to her or Rick and he needed to escape without them. Rick had checked his weaponry several times each and had started another round of inspection, just to be sure and Jonathan had done a good once-over of his own pistol as well before settling in surprising quiet for the night with only a comment here and there to be given. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her silence prompted Rick to glance up from his work while she pulled her sleeve away from her shoulder again and bounced her feet restlessly while staring at the rifle in his hand. “Hey, it’s gonna be fine. Even if things don’t go the way we plan, we’re all making it out of here.” She looked up at him and offered a half-hearted smile to his words of comfort. There was so much of Alex in the grin he offered in reply, or rather she saw how much of him showed in his son. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If things do go wrong,” she paused and bit down on her thumbnail while trying to get her thoughts to properly form into the words she wanted to convey. Finding the words seemed impossible and so she shook her head in defeat and eased her weight down to curl up for the night under her blanket instead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Andy, we’ve done this before. We know how to handle these fellows. There is nothing to worry about, Rick here just likes to be overprepared.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nothing more was said that night after Jonathan’s reassurance. As worn down as everyone felt from their journey the night still proved restless and all too short. At any given moment, out of the six companions who rested in the dim glow of their dying fire only half at best slept at once. The others either walked around the perimeter for peace of mind or feigned sleep in hopes that sleep would come. When the time came to head out and claim their prize their party was once again faced with a grueling morning feeling more drained and unrested than the night before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The way of coping with their shared irritability was chosen silence while packing and preparing for the ride to their mystery shrine. However, for some, the silence was as uncomfortable as the cold hard stone on which they had attempted to sleep. “When this is over, I’m going to go home. I’m going to find myself the most comfortable bed money can buy, and I’m not going to leave that bed until the good lord comes to claim me.” Jonathan’s complaint was voiced to no one in particular as he tightened the ropes to secure his belongings to the back of his camel and in turn, received no reply apart from an apprehensive smile from Lysandra while she tried to secure her own things without getting too close to the camel until she had no choice to get closer and saddle up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Silence followed them on their journey to collect their coveted text as each traveler reflected on their own concerns of the day. From the very start of their ride, Lysandra was restless and incapable of sitting still. While her hair remained tightly bound she still impulsively brushed the ghost of unruly locks of hair behind her ears and pulled at her sleeve. An uncomfortable pit in her stomach kept her from finding contentment in any position she sat in, and if she had bitten down on her lip any harder she might have drawn blood. The weight of the unknown was crushing as a boundless array of “what-if” scenarios plagued her thoughts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ornate carvings began to appear in the face of the high cliffs as they neared their destination. Images of gods and priests adorned the high face of stone telling the story of the phases of life and death gleamed in the bright glow of the sun. The sense of insignificance she had felt while taking in her first sunset in the great desert returned as she beheld the larger-than-life carvings that had withstood more lifetimes than she could comprehend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A deep ache pulled at the inside of her throat accompanied by a sharp sting in her nose that always preceded the tears that she damned herself for letting fall. Her restlessness fell to a wide-eyed stillness that she felt from the inside as if even her heart slowed in respect to the wonder that loomed above them. An awestruck admiration that only intensified when they came to an opening carved out of the cliffs themselves. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The shrine they had discovered was small by temple standards of the ancient kingdom but built with as much care as any other masterpiece crafted by the ancient hands that crafted the antiquated mysteries that called so many into the desert. It was a wide room with statues carved into the walls much like the adornments along the outside of the cave, and shelves carved in between that once held sacred statuary and important treasures. The center held a large table carved from a large stone with carved script all around its surface. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As if it had been rehearsed, Evy dismounted her camel and set to work translating the writing straight away while the others took their own looks around. Lysandra slipped her feet out of her shoes and stepped barefoot into the shrine and just barely touched her fingertips to one of the statues. Without the sun warming the stone the ground was cool underfoot and soothing after so many days of discomfort. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She remembered lessons Linda would teach her as a young girl about the wisdom of ancient places. Old stones that hold the stories of the hearts that beat before hers that would resonate energies held within them. From the day they first met Linda had spoken about the value of life, and the ways that life was found in all things, even things that didn’t seem living.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sprout, everything has a life to it. The water in the river, the rocks you climb on, the wood our house is built from, it all holds life in it. It’s our job to listen to it, learn from it, respect and protect it.” </span>
  </em>
  <span> She could still see Linda’s hand reaching out to feel the formations in the woods around their cabin, pressed flat against the rocks as the barefooted old woman closed her eyes and listened. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Give it a try, Sprout. Reach out and tell me what you feel.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra reached up to feel Linda’s pendant through her shirt as she thought about the lessons of her upbringing. She never had much skill for feeling the way Linda did, but Linda always contributed that to her age, but as she stood in the ancient shrine and felt the cold ground beneath her feet she couldn’t resist an attempt. Her hand rested against a carved image of Osiris while she let her eyes flutter closed and took in any and all senses around her. The voices of her companions, echoing footsteps in the carved shrine, a gentle hum, warm tingling in her hand and feet, the strong earthy scent carried in the air, mixed with a light and sweet aroma that she could only just smell before it was gone. A sudden heaviness overtook her head, and she felt unsteady as if the room around her were tilting. She opened her eyes and stepped away from the statue but the dizzying feeling showed no signs of easing. Everything around her seemed too loud and too close. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t look good,” Rick commented as she made her way between him and Ardeth to flee the shrine in a tip-toed gait across the stones. She barely acknowledged him and reached out to steady herself against a boulder but it was no use, even outside the carved room she felt as if the world around her was tilting. It was like trying to stand after being spun around on a swing for too long. She looked up at him and tried to explain what was wrong but could only manage to produce a garbled attempt at speech before she lost her balance and fell backward without the slightest attempt of catching herself. Both men moved to catch her but neither made it before she hit the ground with a rude and graceless thud.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Laying on the ground, even in the sun, eased the vertigo she had been suffering and she made no attempt to move. “What happened?” She glanced up from the corner in response to Ardeth’s demand as he knelt beside her to check for injuries while Rick and Alex crowded together to make sure she would be all right. “The uhm, I don’t,” she paused and groaned as he pushed her to a sitting position and checked the back of her head where she had landed against the ground, “I got dizzy.” she summed up finally, wincing as the others joined her little audience. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“From what? You were just touching that wall and then you ran out, then </span>
  <em>
    <span>bam</span>
  </em>
  <span> you fell over!” Alex rambled quickly and stared at her with his eyes wide. He held onto his father’s arm while Rick held him back out of the way and fidgeted his feet in a dance that Lysandra herself had done more times than she could count. It broke her heart to know that she had caused him so much worry, but also warmed the same broken heart to know that he cared enough to be so worried in the first place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s complicated, but I’m fine Alex. The only thing that got hurt is my pride.” She offered a smile and a wink but still made no effort to move. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Complicated? What does that mean?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked flatly at Jonathan but quickly softened her features to a gentle and understanding nod. “Well, if I remember right, it means that something is complex, difficult to analyze, express, or understand. Or, something that is composed of intricate or highly detailed parts to create a more elaborate or intricate whole.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While he rolled his eyes and walked off with Alex in tow to complain about her snarky attitude for her dictionary quotations, Evy took his place and patted her leg like a child who can’t wait to share their newest life discovery. Her eyes were glistening while she clapped her hands together and gave an eager smile. “Right, so the table talks about a ritual for reincarnation, that sounds exactly like what our friends are up to. The best part is that it describes the tools necessary for this process to work, most of which at one time were kept here. The most vital tool looks to be a chest containing something referred to as ‘the eye and the key’ but there is nothing telling what this eye and key are.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about the writing that brought us here, the incantation for this ritual? What does it say about that?” Lysandra felt like a child looking between parents as Ardeth asked his question. He had asked the very thing that was on her mind, and both watched Evy while patiently waiting for their answer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing, I’m afraid. However, there is another place on the wall where it looks as if a tablet might have been pried away. That may be what we are after.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So in other words, our ‘friends’ got here first?” Lysandra’s shoulders slumped forward. She pushed her hair behind her ears and tried to force a smile, but her eyes remained sullen and defeated. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rick sat up with a smirk to remind everyone that he had already called that their mission wouldn’t be so easy or simple but Lysandra cut him off by quickly holding her finger to her lips and looked past him in the direction Jonathan and Alex had run off in. She sat open-mouthed and unblinking and fought to control her breath. “What are you looking at, Andy?” It wasn’t a question of curiosity that Rick asked, but a demand through feigned calm as he stared her down and listened for his son. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Alex?” Evy moved to stand but she pulled her down again and shook her head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t move. Just, hold on,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Andy,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She took a sharp gasp and reached out to grab a hold of Ardeth’s arm. In an instant, their world was thrown into chaos as Alex’s scream echoed around the canyon followed by pistol fire and Jonathan’s orders to run. Lysandra scrambled to her feet and tried to run toward them while Evy and Rick simultaneously raced to do the same and argued over Evy’s safety in doing so. The ground beneath them shook and sent them off balance, the four of them leaning on boulders and canyon walls, and each other while dashing to the echoed screams of their missing party members. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rick rounded a corner, having pushed himself to the absolute limits of his speed and collided hard with his son, sending the two tumbling to the ground in an awkward heap while he cradled Alex against him. Both spoke rapidly without hearing the other while Rick rambled his relief after having thought he had lost his son again, and Alex rapidly telling the tale of a monster that had chased him and his uncle through the canyon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the others caught up to them Evy fell on top of their familial dogpile to take her turn fawning over and suffocating their son. Lysandra and Ardeth stood a short way back to give them space. She restlessly shifted her weight foot-to-foot and panted for breath after their sprint, still dizzy from her earlier experience, while he stood with far more composure, armed and ready for whatever threat had frightened Alex and Jonathan so much. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jonathan skidded around the corner with his pistol in hand, colorless in the face and covered in a glimmering sheen of sweat. His hand trembled in a way that Rick felt safer disarming him and tried to ease him to sit but he fought every attempt while another tremor threatened to knock their party off their feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jonathan, what is wrong? What happened to you two?” Evy still held Alex to her chest and he clung to her with every bit of a child’s desperation. Instead of an answer from either relative, Evy’s answer came in the form of a falling stack of rocks landing behind them. Jonathan immediately screamed for Rick to return his pistol while Alex pushed for the others to run. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh my god!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lysandra grabbed for Ardeth and stumbled backward as one of the large-as-life statues broke free from the wall, raining dirt and pebbles down as it brandished a stone spear and stood ready for a fight. One by one, other carvings broke free of the wall and joined together to form a small army of living stone guardians. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rick immediately opened fire, sending several rounds into their opponents, but with no effect. Once the echo of his shots silenced their earthly adversary took its turn and sent him flying into the cliff wall behind him. Ardeth pulled his arm free of Lysandra’s grasp and blocked an attack but took all of his strength to remain standing against the force of the statue’s blow. Evy grabbed Alex and followed Jonathan farther down the canyon to escape, and Lysandra followed after Rick grabbed her by the braid and pulled her out of the way of another swing of a stone weapon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did that table say anything about living statues?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It said something about breathing life into the protectors!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did it say how to </span>
  <em>
    <span>unbreathe</span>
  </em>
  <span> life into the protectors?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid not!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra and Evy shouted their exchange over the deafening rumble of stone and echoes of gunfire while running for a safe position but were cut off by another group of statues at the other end of the canyon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid we’ve been trapped!” Jonathan backed away and anxiously looked around for any direction they could flee to, but there were no other paths in sight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Start climbing!” Lysandra wasted no time waiting for the others and pulled herself up to the top of one of the rock formations. She reached down and helped Alex to follow with Evy and Jonathan close behind. “They’ll just knock us over!” Alex held onto Evy’s hand and looked around desperately for any chance of survival as the carved guardians began their assault on the outcropping they sought refuge atop. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alex, darling, I need you to listen to me very carefully. We are going to have to jump across to the next set of stones. I’m going to need you to be brave, and give it all you’ve got.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sis, I’m not sure this is the best plan.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you have a better one, Jonathan?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is a family matter, Andy, we don’t need your input!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another blow to their post threatened to send the whole thing toppling over. To avoid falling back into the canyon Lysandra jumped to the nearest rock formation. It was a clumsy and undignified landing, one that left her thankful she had opted to wear pants with her skirt. She hastily adjusted her position and reached out for Alex to follow her lead with the promise to catch him, but even then Evy had to force her son across. She caught him by the wrist as he fell short of the distance and pulled him against her to make room for the others to follow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One by one the fled back toward Rick and Ardeth, trying to avoid attacks of large thrown stones, and blows from earthen weapons. As they got closer to the shrine itself the rock ledge they stood on took a hit that sent the entire structure toppling to the ground. Evy instinctively reached for Alex and did her best to protect him as they fell. Jonathan yelped and reached for anything he could manage, and Lysandra toppled to land at the feet of one of the two statues trying to end Rick’s life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How’s it going?” He forced a tense smile and shook his hair out of his eyes while keeping his gaze locked on the ancient carvings in his standoff.  She scrambled to her feet and darted behind him to avoid being in the way. Her chest ached, and every rumbling crash of stone shook her to her core. None of their weapons did anything against the great stone guards, and as the other statues closed in on them she could feel herself losing to the overwhelming grip of terror that closed in with them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex had climbed back up onto their fallen perch to escape the battle that raged around his family while Ardeth and Jonathan joined forces to keep a statue’s focus away from him and give him time to escape. Evy pleaded for Ardeth to escape with him and get him out of the desert and somewhere safe and armed herself with a fallen stone spear that had been dropped by one of the statues. If she was going to die, she was going to be sure that her son escaped. Rick had other plans and screamed over his engagement for her to follow Alex while he distracted their invincible opponents. However, Alex made it clear he had no intention of going anywhere and instead began throwing rocks at the statues to distract them from his family. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alex! </span>
  <em>
    <span>What are you doing?!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Jonathan’s shriek was so sharp that for a moment Lysandra thought it had been Evy to yell at him while Rick added his own contribution to convince Alex to stand down. “Knock it off, buddy, we got this!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No! There’s crystals! There are crystals in their headdresses!” Alex took aim and threw another stone at a statue that had Jonathan cornered and sent the glimmering gem falling to shatter on the ground. Immediately, the statue ceased movement and began to crumble into rubble. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a few seconds, the entire battle paused as the adventurers watched in awe and exchanged glances of hope for a chance of survival and the guardians watched one of their own be destroyed before attacking with a new viciousness. Rick took aim and unloaded his revolver as one tried to run him through with its spear, finally shattering the crystal with the last shot. The stone soldier crumbled while running forward, sending pieces scattering across the canyon in its momentum. Alex continued raining rocks down, cheering excitedly as another statue fell. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, as the last guardian collapsed and silence fell over the canyon, they reunited together among the rubble. No one spoke as they all fought to catch their breath. Lysandra collapsed much like the statues that had tried to kill them all and blinked tears out of her eyes. Evy and Rick huddled together with Alex. Jonathan slid down the canyon wall and grimaced while fighting to even his breath. Ardeth sat a short way from him with his head back and eyes closed, sword still in hand, and did the same. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No one protested when it was suggested that they make haste to leave the canyon shrine. It was a challenge to find the camels, but eventually, all animals were accounted for and they were able to depart fully. They continued to ride in stunned silence until they were able to rest for the night at the edge of a small oasis where Lysandra took no chances on their safety and went around the perimeter of their camp drawing various symbols in the sand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you up to, old girl?” Jonathan questioned as she finally considered her work complete and took a place sprawled across the sand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> see what just happened? That shouldn’t have happened! That isn’t possible! Those statues </span>
  <em>
    <span>came to life!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Those statues </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost killed us!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I told you, it’s never simple.” Rick, also taking no chances on their safety, kept his shotgun across his lap while he made himself as comfortable as he could be while staying on his guard. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a protection circle, Linda used to put them around our house when I was little. It keeps things away that would hurt us.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quiet fell over them again while she dug through her belongings before cursing and throwing herself back down into the sand. “It’s going to be a long trip.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What makes you say that?” Ardeth took a place across from Rick to keep watch in the opposite direction and looked down at her as she lay, almost pouting, on the ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My damned shoes. I left them in the canyon.” </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for your comments and feedback! Hearing your thoughts absolutely makes my day! I am always curious to know how you feel about things, or how you see and picture Andy. I'm always curious about all of your thoughts! I can only see this story from my own head, so I love knowing how you see it form yours. Again, thank you so much for your support, it means a lot. Especially right now while things on my side of the screen are getting a little rough.</p><p>I'm going to give a shout out to my amazing best friend, my undying treasure. She is the entire reason I am still writing and is my rock right now when my world is crumbling. Can we also give her a round of applause for getting me Mummy merchandise *signed* by Arnold Vosloo for my birthday? This girl is the reason I wake up in the morning, and I don't deserve her.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My updates are going to slow quite a bit starting next week now that my classes will be picking back up, but I will be continuing this story until the end, I promise! </p><p>As always, I sincerely love hearing from you! Let me know all your thoughts, opinions, concerns and questions! I love interacting and sharing this story with you &lt;3 </p><p>I hope you like this chapter! Enjoy the read! :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Following the loss of her shoes, Lysandra had repurposed one of her blankets and improvised a set of foot wrappings to protect her feet from the elements, and from the scorching heat of the sand when walking. Her new footwear was anything but stylish and often required adjustment to maintain her mummy-like protective coverings. The only protection they truly afforded was insulation against the hot sand but provided a little barrier against any rocks found underfoot. Twice in the following days since their altercation against the great carved guardians in the canyon she had been forced to unravel a foot’s bindings to bandage a wound from a sharp edge finding its way underfoot. It was a shared concern that before long, it would not be rocks and broken pottery that threatened her wellbeing, but a bite or sting from any of the desert’s venomous inhabitants. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yet again the band traveled for days on end, only stopping when it was the camels who needed to rest. The human travelers spent the cycles of blazing days and brisk nights on the backs of their furry, hump-backed traveling companions. Lysandra had gotten slightly better at camel riding having reluctantly faced the reality that her home was now on the back of one. It was a bitterly accepted joke that she did better in the saddle asleep than she did awake, but there was no way of denying the truth behind the teasing banter. She had no choice but to relax while asleep. Without her nervous over-corrections or reactions to her fear of falling, there were no movements to startle or stress the camel that carried her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Having found only empty shelves and inscriptions, living statues hell-bent on destroying them all aside, they had made a push to race to one more potential destination where their text may have been kept. The hope was that by traveling relentlessly they could catch up to, or better yet surpass, the cultists and claim the prize for themselves. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, the last time we raced for ancient ruins, it was a cash bet and not the world on the line!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra glanced up at Rick just in time to see Evy smirk at her husband with her chin held high and brows raised in that stubbornly confident fashion she was so prone to do. “If I do recall correctly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mr. O’Connell</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I won that race for you back then.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Think you can win another one, sis? I’m not sure how much more we can stand of all this.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The familiarity between not only her companions but between them and their situation was like watching through a picture screen. Every so often there would be a twinge of detachment as Lysandra traveled with her companions. It was often a fleeting, a flutter of disconnect to those around her. In those small moments, though she did her best not to show it, there was a bite of self-doubt that labeled her an outsider to their party. There were often comments about previous ventures, quips, and inside jokes that she simply had no way of participating with apart from observation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was during these moments of disconnect when she found herself an observer that she most often took advantage of her position and did just that. She would observe and admire the way The O’Connells interacted with their son or the amiable nature of Jonathan and Evy’s relationship. She would often regard the way the scenery played off of her companions, the contrast of Ardeth’s dark clothing against the light landscape, or the way the sun caught Alex or Rick’s hair just right to give a radiant halo. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, after being caught in such musings and appreciation she had made an effort to avoid watching Ardeth in any such way. She still hadn’t found a sure standing with him, especially after he had put a stop to her attempted wrathful conjurings in Cairo. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m just not sure how much longer I can endure these smelly, flea-ridden-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Jonathan,” she interrupted calmly, “the camels didn’t ask for this either. It isn’t their fault you’re uncomfortable, they didn’t do anything to you.” Her voice was light and soft, but tired as she defended the creatures who had carried them on their backs. She hesitantly reached up to give an affectionate pat to her carrier’s neck and glanced up to see Jonathan sulking, bouncing around rhythmically to the motion of his camel’s steps. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They continued on for another several hours with an occasional comment here, or question asked there, but the shared fatigue among journeying companions left interactions to a minimum. They trudged along a high dune and eventually fell in a single line with the camels following one another as their riders each lost themselves in their own musings, or in Jonathan and Alex’s cases, a nap. Lysandra was just on the verge of joining them and only barely noticed their precession coming to a stop until she felt a light tap on her shoulder to pull her out of sleep’s tempting clutches. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes fluttered open and she sat up from her slumped posture to see Ardeth watching her in full amusement. She had decided against her braid for the day and had trusted her scarf to keep her hair in order, but in her sleepy restlessness, she had pulled the scarf away completely. Free from its binds and windblown to a glorious wild crown, her hair resembled a dried desert bush sticking out in its many directions. Her eyes struggled to focus on him as she battled her blurred vision while arching her back in a tired stretch to try and feel somewhat more human again. Of all the places she had slept, the back of a camel did all but make her list of favorites. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pointed a finger behind her and his smile grew from a barely hidden smirk to a full grin as her gaze followed his wordless direction. She gasped a breath full of childlike wonder and pushed her hair behind her ears with no success. In her awe and surprise, she leaned back toward him, which was ever so slightly too far for the balance of her saddle, and began to topple helplessly from her steed. Had it not been for his quick thinking to catch her by the shoulder and push her back upright, she would have found herself lying in the sand, but she couldn’t bring herself to do more than mutter a half-attentive “thank you” while turning her gaze back to the magnificent structures of the great temple that sat in the distance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even with the ornately carved colossal figures who guarded it, the shrine in the canyon was a modestly muted, ordinary structure compared to the monument that lay before them. Even after thousands of years unkept at the mercy of the wind and the sands, it stood proud and imposing over all who would come upon it. Despite their distance, there was no mistaking the size and grandeur of the ancient holy structures, and she sat shamelessly like a child gazing in wonderment at something she had only imagined in stories and research. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She turned around to face Ardeth with a smile full of hope and excitement so strong he could have sworn her eyes sparkled as she looked up at him and demanded, “Is that where we’re going?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That is exactly where we are going!” Evy’s drive for discovery thrived upon seeing the magnificent ruins ahead of them and refreshed a surge of energy that left her just as excitedly perched as Lysandra. Jonathan and Alex, who had been roused from their light sleep by the excited conversation around them, were much less enthused. Alex looked around with groggy, half-lidded eyes and drool-stained face until his gaze fell on his father who barely had an answer to his childish demand, “Are we there yet?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Much like Evy, seeing the temple that awaited their arrival had renewed Lysandra’s energy and left her wide awake for the duration of their march. Her skill in camel riding had improved immensely over the course of their adventure, from nearly being forced to ride in the beginning to handling and steering her new friend independently, able to keep up with the others with little difficulty. However, where she had not improved, was the dismount. While the others found their feet firmly on the ground immediately upon arrival, she continued her clumsy struggle of poorly given commands and failure to get her camel to lay down. Her companions gathered in a small audience while she stubbornly refused any help, determined to succeed independently, for once since the start of their venture. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Andy, you’re gonna fall. Just let one of us grab the thing so you can get down.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, Rick I- sit, sit down please- I can get it! Thank - ah! </span>
  <em>
    <span>No, </span>
  </em>
  <span>sit please- thank you for the offer!” She yelped and struggled while her camel bleated and grumbled against her attempted commands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good show, Andy, I’ll be inside out of the sun when you finally get all that sorted!” Jonathan raised his hand in a mock toast and made his way into the towering temple halls with Alex in tow. Evy followed shortly after in hopes of finding their ancient curio before their opponents had the chance. She was left with only Rick and Ardeth, neither man giving the slightest attempt at hiding their amusement, to witness her headstrong endeavor. She ignored the jests and snickering from her onlookers and continued to fight her way through the routine she had tried to learn for getting on and off her camel’s back. The more she voiced her frustration the more the camel voiced its protests. They walked in circles, spun about, groaned, roared, and grumbled. “You got this? I’m gonna go help my wife break into some ancient burial or something… you know how it goes.” Rick turned his attention from Ardeth to Lysandra and her camel who still did anything apart from lying down and gave a goofy smile and sarcastic salute. “Good luck with that! See you inside!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After another several minutes of the battle of wills, she finally won, and let out a victorious squeal as the camel surrendered and began to kneel down. She had not braced properly however, for the way the beast pitched forward to lower itself and in an instant found tumbling hind over head, over camel’s head. Her victorious shout became a distressed yelp, soon joined by unfamiliar laughter as she failed to break her fall and landed palms and face-first against the hot sand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She rolled from her crumpled heap and pushed the hair away from her eyes to see Ardeth walking over sporting a wide smile and as he held a hand out to help her. As annoyed as she was at his indulgence at her expense, the way his eyes conveyed his laughter sparked a smile of her own as she looked up at him. His hair danced around his shoulders from the breeze as he shook his head and glanced up at the heavens in what she suspected to be a silent prayer against her stupidity. He kept his hand held out to her and looked back at her with raised brows as if to question her hesitation as she silently debated accepting his offer. </span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>When she did finally relent and reach for his hand, it was an effortless task to hoist her to her feet. He had expected far more difficulty, and she had not expected him to do most of the work to pull her from the ground. Since she had pushed herself up mostly on her own while he had pulled with enough force to move her regardless of her own efforts, the result was her colliding with his body before awkwardly shoving him away and stumbling back to create distance between them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As they made their way to the doors of the massive temple she slowed her pace to what must have been the slowest gait he had ever witnessed. The statues of gods and guardians that towered over them took her breath away, not only in their ornate detail and perseverance against time but as she was reminded of the last statues she had encountered. The pillars still proudly displayed ornate paintings and writings faded with time, but withstanding nonetheless. Even without stepping through the threshold, she turned full-circle, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, overcome by the majesty of the ancient kingdom. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have you ever seen anything like this?” She whispered her question, not to him but voicing her thoughts, in a hushed tone often reserved for churches and sacred revered places. She glanced over at him as he watched her reach out and brush a painted pillar with her fingertips. Tears glistened in her eyes but never fell, and she offered a smile that could have rivaled the sun that beat down from above. “It’s amazing to think that </span>
  <em>
    <span>thousands</span>
  </em>
  <span> of years ago, this place was standing. Someone, in a world so different from the one we know, stood right where you’re standing, right where I’m standing. Their hands touched these paintings. How many prayers were said here, the same way we pray but with a different name? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Places like these are… are a window to touch another time. It’s amazing and beautiful and…” took a breath and pulled her hand back and offered another smile with a twinge of sadness and began to walk past him, hoping on tip-toe in places where the heat of the ground was too much for her wrapped feet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And what?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She turned back to face him and tilted her head to the side, letting her least favored lock of hair fall to its chosen place over her right eye. “Heartbreaking,” she shrugged and turned to continue making her way into the ancient temple. “To know that the people who built this place are gone, forever. To know that the things they held most sacred are in ruins, and their belongings and even bodies put on display to entertain modern strangers, or thrown aside and considered worthless. It’s heartbreaking.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She repeated her bewildered dance inside the temple, admiring everything about the vast structure and taking in as much of the experience as she was able while Evy darted to and fro translating ancient script and solving riddles. She had hoped to be of more use in their search, but it seemed her role for the day was to accompany their resident expert and provide moral support. A task completed by answering the odd question here and there, and connecting with her ancient surroundings. At least for the time being, there was no true help to be given until Evy had read enough to find a starting point for their search for ‘The Eye and the Key’. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rick and Ardeth took up strategic placements to stand guard and watch for trouble while Evy worked and Jonathan and Alex searched for relics that could be of any use. Lysandra suspected their efforts were more a treasure hunt of Jonathan’s benefit than a quest to find their mystery items. Worried that she would be more harm than good without the ability to read the ancient writing that needed to be translated, Lysandra watched from a safe distance on a pile of sand in the corner, well out of the way. There were many things Lysandra was good for, but reading ancient Egyptian writing was not one of them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The difference between how relaxed Ardeth had been when she was thrown from her camel compared to the tense vigilance when he kept watch brought the same anxiety as when he or Rick set out to secure or patrol camp. Especially after the nightmarish battle just days before in the canyon. While the threat of an attack from cultists was enough to spark fear and restlessness in her, it was a tangible threat that she could understand. Though she had been raised to believe in magic, and understand various spells and incantations, they were small things used for healing, or in the same way a strong prayer would be used. Now, she had no way of knowing what to expect, and that cloud of unknown hanging above her set a pain of anxiety through her chest that lingered until it stole her breath away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While Rick moved from his post to help Evy move a particularly heavy artifact so that she could read what was written behind it she made her way back to Ardeth. Sitting in one place and dwelling on ‘what if’ did no good, and only served to intensify her restlessness and concern. She stood with a nervous hand behind her neck and looked up at him, and silently cursed her stature as, just like Rick, she barely came up to his shoulder when standing at full height. "Ardeth," she started, her voice higher in pitch and far quieter than she intended. He was intimidatingly stern while on guard, and she was suddenly afraid to bother him but had already called his name and it was too late to back down now. "I um, w-well I was wondering if I could ask some questions?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ardeth glanced at her from the corner of his eye and nodded, expecting more questions about what to expect if they were attacked, or questions about their mission to thwart the cult’s plans, but instead, she pointed toward his sword before fussing with her hair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> "You know I'm no good at fighting, and I don't mean to cause so much trouble, but when we did get into a fight I couldn’t do much, even when it wasn’t giant, ancient… statues, trying to kill us. You and Rick were in so much more danger trying to protect the rest of us, and I, and I just, I want to help, and I-" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You would do better with a rifle. The sword is a weapon that takes many years of training, time we do not have." He interrupted her rambling with a stern but honest answer. With the nature of their journey and uncertainty of what dangers would be faced, there was no good timing to begin training. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Please, Ardeth, Rick has Evy and Alex to worry about and doesn’t have time to teach me to shoot," she took a frustrated breath and stepped in front to face him with an emotional glare he couldn't place. There were tears in her eyes, but her stance was determined, despite the way her teeth trapped the corner of her lip. It was as if all of the emotions he had witnessed from her until that point had rolled into one as she stared him down. He had never seen her make such an assertive move against anyone but Jonathan and found himself intrigued to what else she had hidden behind her quiet nervousness. "I know you all think I'm worthless in this, and maybe bringing me with you was a mistake. Maybe Jonathan was wrong but, I…. Look, I'm scared, I'll admit it to you. I'm terrified all the time here. I don’t sleep, because if something happens I won’t know to run, I barely eat, because I am always watching you and Rick, to know if it’s safe-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are not worthless.” Again he cut her off, but this time gave no room for a response as she recoiled, unsure of how to respond to his words. She had anticipated several reactions, but that was not one of them. As defiant and determined as she had been before, she seemed to shrink under his gaze. He sighed and nodded for her to follow him. “If you are determined to learn the ways of the sword, I am willing to teach what I can to you,” he conceded and led her away from the others to a place where he could keep watch over the temple entrance still, but their companions would not see their lesson.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, thank you so much!” She hopped along the sun-scorched sand at his heels until he had found a place he was content with. Without saying a word he fell into a wider stance and watched expectantly until she took the hint and tried to copy. While his stance was as natural to him as walking, hers was offset, awkward and unsure. With her extremely limited knowledge and experience in combat, she could only attempt to mirror his stance and as a test of her stability, he shoved her down into the sand. She fell easily, and for a moment looked hurt for being pushed while she stood again and brushed the sand from her skirt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You must have a strong stance to wield a blade in combat. Your opponent will be trying to disarm you, to knock you from your feet. You must be able to remain standing and move quickly enough to defend yourself,” he explained, “again,” he added, motioning with his hand for her to copy the stance. She did her best but yet again he effortlessly sent her toppling into the sand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They repeated this routine, him motioning with the order of “again,” and her falling into the sand, for nearly an hour. It was frustrating in a way she had not felt since she was a small child. She remembered the bitter frustration she had as a little girl, trying to sound out words that were so simple for others to read, or trying to climb a tree and falling time and time again until she finally would either give up or figure out how to pull herself into the branches. As she took the stance for an uncounted time her frustration and discouragement got the best of her and as he reached up to push her again she slapped his hand away and glared up at him. “Don’t,” she ordered, “I’m tired, I hurt, and I am done being humiliated by your ‘lesson.’” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And so you have finally learned,” he nodded with the slightest hint of a smile threatening the corners of his mouth, “Again.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Though she had been ready to quit, his way of almost smiling provided a shred of encouragement that convinced her to try again. This time she stumbled a few steps backward before falling when shoved, and finally, she only stumbled but was able to keep herself on her feet. He gave a nod of approval and stepped closer to push her harder, and she moved a step back to maintain her balance. She smiled up at him, beaming pride of her success in staying on her feet and he gave another nod of approval before he took a step around her and pushed again from behind. She yelped and fell straight forward into the sand without the slightest resistance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Move your feet,” he instructed and helped her up again.  He showed in his own stance the way he expected her to move. “Your opponent moves, you move as well. Always Keep yourself at your strongest stance. I seek to send you into the sand, our enemies will seek to send you into your grave. Stand again.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They repeated their routine. Each time she adjusted her stance she would either fall back into the sand or stumble and be pushed harder until she fell. He encouraged her to move as he stepped around her, and continued his relentless advances until she was able to move to counter and remain on her feet no matter where he chose to attack. Eventually, she began pushing his hand away as he moved to strike her while he critiqued her movements. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good, you learn quickly. Now, do not allow me to strike you. Remain standing and defend yourself.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She turned to question him, but he moved without warning and sent her falling into the sand, yet again. “Your enemies will not see that you are ready before attacking. You must always be vigilant to your defense. Again,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He made his strike second she was on her feet and had delivered his blow before he had finished his words. Between her quick learning and her absolute frustration with the lesson, and a hint of pure luck, she moved quickly enough to catch his hand. She stared down at his hand as she held his wrist with both hands, and looked up at him wide-eyed to see him staring back expectantly as she dumbly held onto him. “I, uhm, now what? Y-you didn’t say what to do now,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ardeth pulled away and straightened his stance, and clapped a hand over her shoulder approvingly. “I don’t encourage holding your enemy’s hand in battle. This is enough for now, I will teach more another time. For now, rest and remain mindful of your stance. You did well.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She nodded and began straightening her dress only to find herself falling back toward the sand. This time, Ardeth caught her and pulled her back to her feet. “Always,” he nodded with a glint of humor in his eyes, “ be vigilant and mindful of your stance.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll never trust you again,” she confessed as they walked to rejoin the others. She tugged uncomfortably at her sleeve again before fighting to fix her hair away from her face.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As your teacher, it is my duty to keep you vigilant in your study. As your friend, it is my duty to maintain your trust.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmhmm, so only trust you if you aren’t teaching me. Got it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nodded with a smile and reached out to guide her through the doorway of the temple. She surprised him with how quickly she moved from his reach and fell into a defensive stance, glaring back at him while expecting him to knock her down again, but he only chuckled and shook his head as a show of peace. Their training was over; she had nothing to worry about for the time being.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> As they rejoined the others he gave his sincerest word that he would not do anything against her unless he was actively teaching her. Among the others, though she should always be on her guard, she would have no need to guard against him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, as it turns out, there is no mention of any key in any of the writings here. They do mention an ‘eye’ in several places, but the context reads it as a watchful eye into the afterlife. A god, or high priest, keeping watch. Nothing about reincarnation, or anything along the lines of our cultish friends.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nice of you two to join us.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra ignored Rick’s comment and moved to Evy’s side to discuss her findings. “If we’re looking for the same sort of things I think we are, the eye is like a sort of way of seeing </span>
  <em>
    <span>into</span>
  </em>
  <span> the afterlife. Like a fortune teller’s crystal ball, or something. There has to be more information somewhere.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There might be. There is a wealth of information hidden away at the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities, we may be able to find something there.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In Cairo,” Lysandra shifted her weight to one side and looked at Evy flatly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, yes, in Cairo.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is it always like this when you have to do this? Travel for days and days, just to go back to square one and start over?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Unfortunately, yes, if we can’t gather all the information, but we’ve learned quite a lot from this venture and I’m certain with the additional information from the museum, we’ll be well on our way.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evy’s optimism and confidence did not fool her as she watched the Englishwoman in front of her. She knew that she carried as much stress and concern over the time wasted against time that the cult could be moving closer to their goal. It would do no good voicing the concerns that she knew the others around her carried, and so she chose to keep her two cents to herself and follow the others back to the camels. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without prompting, or request, Rick held her camel so that she could easily climb into the saddle without repeating the battle she had fought upon their arrival. Once again their party was in motion, racing against time and a cult they knew little about, to find relics of which they knew nothing but a name. She wasn’t sure which was more exhausting, the travel or the discouragement upon finding no eyes or keys in the temple, or the knowledge that they were headed back to Cairo to start their research all over again. She glanced to her side to see that Ardeth seemed just as pensive and concerned about their situation, and found comfort in knowing that she wasn’t alone in her worry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Chin up you lot, with any luck this eye and key business is already on display in the museum. We should’ve checked there in the first place!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If nothing else she was comforted by Jonathan’s inability to allow a serious moment to remain serious. His comments may have left her fantasizing about strangling him at times, but they were a comfort blanket just as much. Maybe he was right. Maybe they would find what they were looking for back in Cairo. She doubted the possibility, but a small part of her still held out hope nonetheless. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>The crackling sounds of the small campfire mixed with the pungent sage aroma of burning desert nettles carried in the smoke was an odd comfort as Lysandra stared into the dark quiet of the night. If she closed her eyes she could almost imagine herself back on her mat in Linda’s home, listening to the hearth while Linda dried her bundles of herbs. The silence of the night was something that bothered her more and more with each passing day as it left the perfect opportunity for her thoughts to run away with her to realms of homesickness, nervous imaginings, and doubt. Her dreams had gotten increasingly more troublesome, turning from gentle musings to viciously realistic nightmares that she would gladly trade for the exhaustion of sleeplessness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of their camp had fallen into comfortable slumber with the exception of their ever-vigilant guards who worked in shifts to each sleep half the night. Ardeth lay eerily still with his sword at his side and face covered to block some of the night’s chill while Rick sat against his gunnysack to take his watch. She couldn’t tell if the medjai had fallen asleep or if he, like her, feigned rest in silence.  Unlike his corpselike stillness, however, she was forced to move as discomfort once again forced her to move and adjust the sleeve of her shirt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s probably the thousandth time I’ve seen you fight with that sleeve. You ok?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She froze like a startled animal, sleeve still in hand, and stared at Rick who watched her from his place lounged by the fire. The stark contrast cast by the orange glow against the night let the shadows hide his face in blackness. Even still she could picture his expression. The firmly set tension his jaw always took when he was suspicious of something, the slight furrow in his brow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine I just might need a larger shirt is all.” Even without the ability to see him clearly she knew he hadn’t bought her lie and his demand to know why her shirt was only too small on the right side proved it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about it, Rick.” Her words were accompanied by a worn sigh as she answered him in an almost whine. After pointedly finishing the adjustment to her sleeve she pulled her remaining blanket tighter around her and balled herself up against the cold. While having something to protect her feet was a blessing, she regretted sacrificing her second blanket to make the wraps. The rest of their camp lay scattered close enough to the fire to be comforted by some of its warmth, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do the same. Night after night, if they set camp she chose to sleep in a tightly curled ball, bundled wrapped as tightly as she could manage to stave the cold from her body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rick watched from the comfort of the fire’s warmth as she fought to contain her entire body within the confines of her blanket and felt a pang of guilt grip his chest. Every time he had sat awake for his shift it was the same sight. The others would scatter around the fire, Evy often holding Alex to keep him warm, Jonathan sprawled across the ground under his blankets, Ardeth either sitting awake or lying still and listening in his light sleep and then there was Lysandra. Never close enough to feel the heat of the fire, a ball of blanket and curls stubbornly shivering against the cool desert’s night air. Recently, the addition of her blanket-wrapped feet poking out of her bundle only made the sight more pitiful. Usually, it was only a temporary sight, as she most often gave up on sleeping altogether, and sat irritably awake until exhaustion forced her otherwise. The conspiracy to somehow get her to move closer to the fire and stay warm was a well-kept secret among the travelers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The more he watched her consistent fidgeting of discomfort the worse he felt for enjoying the fire until he couldn’t endure anymore. Though she had settled beneath her narrow blanket, for the time being, he knew it would only be a few seconds before she was back to her frustrated squirming. Since he, unlike the exhaustingly stubborn woman he pitied, could seek warmth from the campfire he pushed himself to his feet and relinquished the blanket he had kept around his shoulders. If his skills in survival had taught him anything it was that she would be far warmer with something between her body and the cold stone beneath her. But, as the old saying goes, no good deed goes unpunished. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What he had intended to do was lift her blanket, which was intended to be slept on and not under, off of her to get her attention before offering his for warmth. A simple, quiet, exchange to provide her some comfort and give her a chance to rest. What he had done was catch a handful of her hair with the blanket and lift her head up by the bunch of curls in his well-meaning clutches. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra had just reached a point that she could lay still and potentially fall asleep when the sudden pain of being yanked up by her hair brought a startled shriek from her lungs. Certain that they were under attack she flailed about and screamed for Rick, not knowing that he was the one who had startled her. He dropped the blanket, and her hair, back over her face and hissed apologies laced with curses, but the damage had been done. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In response to her scream, Ardeth leaped from his sleep, sword in hand, ready for a fight, and had his blade at Rick’s throat before Lysandra could untangle herself from her blankets. Equally startled awake, Jonathan screamed his own contribution to the symphony of chaos and began chucking rocks at both men as he scrambled across the ground to get between them and Evy and Alex. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Rick! What the hell!” very seldom had anyone heard Lysandra’s voice raise to such an octave. She sat on the ground while holding a hand against her head where her hair had been pulled and looked up at him with an expression that rivaled a sorrowful puppy. Ardeth had lowered his sword but remained just as tense while awaiting the answer to her demand. Jonathan’s reaction was not so uneasy as he burst into a fit of laughter and tossed his remaining rock at Rick’s feet in jest. All Rick managed to produce was a flustered, “I’m sorry!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What were you </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying</span>
  </em>
  <span> to do?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was going to give you an extra blanket! You- you looked miserable!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra glanced down to the discarded blanket piled at his feet and smiled. It was the sort of beaming expression that conveyed far more than her words would ever have been able. “Rick we’re all miserable but that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>blanket, you need to use it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For once, don’t be stubborn. Just take the damn blanket and get some sleep.” He picked up the blanket and tossed it at her before returning to his post to brood against his gunny sack. She pulled the blanket around herself and indulged in the luxury of having a blanket large enough to be pulled around her head </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> cover her toes at the same time. It was also quite nice to lay atop the tightly woven mat of a blanket she had been trying to bundle herself in, rather than the cold harshness of the rocky earth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even with the new comfort of an additional blanket to shield her from the cold she lay awake for another hour before sighing and sitting upright again. It wasn’t a rare occurrence for her to sit defeated and quiet, and watch the others around her sleep. Often she would wake up from restless sleep if she had gotten to sleep at all, and quietly talk with whoever was on guard duty at the time until falling asleep. Some nights she would sit through both shifts and watch the sunrise, a sight she at first found breathtakingly beautiful, but as their journey went on sunrise only brought the frustrating knowledge that chances were slim that she would sleep at all that day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Still no dice, hm?” She turned to see Rick poking at the embers that remained of their fire to reignite the flames. She did not expect to see Ardeth sitting across from him still awake. He pointed and offered advice on stoking the fire and only barely acknowledged her as she adjusted to face them while wrapped as comfortably as possible. The greatest surprise was that Jonathan sat beside him, lazily directing his brother-in-law with useless suggestions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It would seem that our unexpected excitement has made it difficult for any of us to sleep.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, it certainly was a party.” She snorted while picturing the chaos that had ensued just hours ago and looked back at Jonathan, “Were you throwing </span>
  <em>
    <span>rocks </span>
  </em>
  <span>at us?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the bloody hell else was I to do? I had to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. We can’t all lay about, brandishing bloody swords in our sleep.” The Englishman gestured wildly in his flustered defense, unable to see the smile she wore beneath her blanket bundle until her giggles silenced him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Conversations had to be kept in a hushed tone to avoid waking Evy and Alex who had been the only ones able to find sleep after the commotion. It was difficult for Lysandra to participate from her distance but as the conversation turned from their adventure to the history of the cursed soul they sought to prevent from returning to stories of her adventures in London with Jonathan, she became increasingly more engaged. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no no, listen!” Jonathan wheezed, fighting to keep his voice down through his stifled laughter as he attempted to hijack a story from Lysandra. The tale had turned from general misadventures to a particular incident that threatened his pride and dignity if she were to keep on the direction she was going. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> listen!” she warned through stifled giggles, “I almost got arrested because of you!” She turned back to Ardeth, eyes sparkling with amusement in the warm glow of the campfire, and continued her story. “So, there he is singing… Well, if you’re drunk enough it sounded like singing, and the sun is coming up. He’s standing up on a bench, performing with his </span>
  <em>
    <span>whole soul</span>
  </em>
  <span> and-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> were dancing around to the music. How dare you leave out that </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever-so-tiny</span>
  </em>
  <span> detail, that </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> encouraged me to sing so that </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> had music to dance to.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” she pointed squarely at her former drinking partner and stared deadpan into his eyes, “I happen to be a </span>
  <em>
    <span>phenomenal</span>
  </em>
  <span> dancer.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The other two men in their company exchanged amused glances while she broke into another whispered argument with Jonathan about what had truly transpired that night. While the tale had two vastly different tellings, it was silently agreed that they believed Lysandra’s version more than Jonathan’s. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The more they reminisced and recounted highlights of their days together the more relaxed Lysandra had become. She had slowly moved closer to the others to hear and be heard more clearly and eventually found a place between Rick and Ardeth, sitting a normal distance from the fire. For the first time since their mission began she truly felt a part of their company. She was no longer an outsider brought along by Jonathan, or the witch they needed for occasional information. She sat equally among fellows, and as the night went on with smiles, stories, and lightheartedness all around, the whispering doubt that often crept up on her felt miles away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even as Jonathan succumbed to sleep and left her without her storytelling partner she happily continued to sit in quiet contentment and light conversation with the other two who remained awake. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re tired, you should rest,” Ardeth gave his suggestion with a laugh after she failed to stifle a yawn. She shook her head and straightened her back to show that she wasn’t as tired as he thought, a trick she had often used against Linda in her youth when encouraged to go to bed. Rick looked to her with a sly smirk and moved closer to her. “Tell you what, I’ll make the same deal with you I make with Alex. You lay down, and get comfy, but you don’t have to sleep. If you’re not tired you’ll stay awake anyway.” He grabbed her by her sleeve and pulled her to lay down and pulled her blanket up over her shoulders before going back to his original place. His plan worked flawlessly, and within several minutes of quiet, she was sound asleep beside the fire. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Come sunrise she was the last one to wake. Typically, as she was somewhat of a light sleeper, she would wake at the first rustlings of the morning. However, having slept comfortably -as much as she could have given the hard ground for a bed- her body finally caught up on much-needed rest. No one among their company had the heart to wake her until absolutely necessary. When that time came, Jonathan dropped a pack on her chest as he walked by her to rouse her from her slumber. “Well get a move on, then, we haven’t got all day.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She groaned and tossed the pack aside, glaring at him furiously until something else hit her shoulder. Her hair whipped around her face as she turned to face her new antagonist, catching her uncomfortably in the eye as she looked up to see Rick unapologetically smiling down at her. “If you didn’t stay up so late and got enough sleep, you wouldn’t have overslept.” he pointed out, nudging her in the shoulder a second time with his foot before walking off to the already packed camels. “We’re leaving!” he added over his shoulder lightly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hastily looked around to find that everything had been cleaned up already. Hardly a trace of their camp remained apart from her and her pack beside her. Even the traces of their fire the night before had been covered. Ardeth, Evy, and Alex were already mounted on the backs of their camels and watched her as she scrambled to her feet, and pushed her sandy hair up into a shabby bundle atop her head, tied securely in place by her scarf. She jogged clumsily to her camel and mounted with Rick’s assistance and rambled sincere apologies for the start of their day’s journey. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the sun baked the earth and heated the dry air Lysandra found it more and more difficult to find comfort. The constant scratching from the seams of her sleeve against her shoulder was enough to tempt her to scream. The heat from the midday sun sent twinges of searing pain across her skin that intensified with each scratching movement of her sleeve as if a razor’s blade had been woven into the stitching. She knew that her constant fighting with her sleeve had not gone unnoticed. Jonathan had commented once or twice, Ardeth had given inquisitive glances after catching her fussing with it, just the night before Rick had outright called her out on how often he had noticed. As if the universe had meant to reinforce her musings she caught a  glimpse of Rick’s concerned stare just before he turned his attention back to driving his camel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a poor stroke of luck that the day had turned out to be a quiet and uneventful venture. She had come to rely on the goings-on of their expedition as a distraction from her discomfort. A means to keep her mind off of the ever-present pains that were only intensified by the sun. The only time she felt any true relief was at night, when the sun fled the sky and the night whisked in cooling breezes and cold reprieve from the harshness of the day. She felt overwhelming jealousy from how relatively unaffected Ardeth seemed compared to the rest of their fellowship. Understandably, knowing that this harsh and unfamiliar landscape was merely home for him, but she felt jealousy nonetheless. The journey would have been so much easier if she could at least feign the same comfort and ease that he displayed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They pushed onward throughout the day until Ardeth signaled a stop as the sun began its descent across the sky. “There is an oasis there that will be safe enough for us to rest for the night. It will do us all good to replenish our water.” She couldn’t have been more relieved by his words and by the shared smiles and sighs from the others she was sure she wasn’t alone in that sentiment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The trees she saw climbing toward the sky in the distance silhouetted against the deep oranges and pinks of the desert sunset was a stunningly beautiful sight. One that she nudged her camel a few steps closer so that she could better take in. She had taken for granted the luxury of living in the woods until spending her time wandering the desert. Never before did she find such breathtaking beauty in greenery. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They began their usual routine of setting up camp. Each person had adopted a role in the process that made each night they stopped more efficient than the last. “You’re sure you’re alright? You’ve been messing with that shoulder all day again today.” Rick had caught her pulling at her sleeve while they worked together to unload the camels. She winced at his question and shook some of her hair down into her face to hide from his gaze.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine, I’m just not used to this heat.” She tried to laugh it off but he wasn’t buying. He eyed her with a skeptical “hmm” but went about his business to finish their unload. She was relieved to suffer no further questioning while he checked over his weapons and began a quick scout of the oasis with Ardeth to secure their camp.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While the others went through their work to set up the rest of their needs for the night she looked around at the plants surrounding them and took a deep breath of earthy scented air. The fragrance was not the woody aroma of her forest home, but it was a comfort to be surrounded by plant life and greenery again. She wandered to the edge of their designated camping area to admire the unfamiliar bushes and trees and took advantage of the opportunity to slip away nearly undetected. While Evy and Jonathan hadn’t noticed her quiet departure, Alex ended up right on her heels demanding to know where she was going and whether or not he could accompany her. After all, they were still out on dangerous business, and she surely would need a guard. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just need a minute to myself, Alex. I’ll be right back I promise.” He crossed his arms defiantly over his chest at her assurance and looked up at her with the same look she had seen on his mother a thousand times since meeting the O’Connells. His chin was held high, and while she stood taller than him he still managed to peer down his nose at her in a near mirror of Evy’s stubborn habit. She rolled her eyes in mild annoyance and moved him aside by the shoulders before pushing past him  “I’m staying close by, now stay here. I’ll be back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All right, but if anyone asks I’m telling straight away.” he warned and dejectedly made his way back to entertain himself while awaiting her return.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With that battle out of the way she immediately set out to find the source of the water she could hear running nearby. After hours of grueling sunlight mercilessly beating down on her she was thankful for the gift of shade provided by the rocky overhangs and trees around her. The scent of the oasis flora brought calm to her that felt like home as she walked, breathing deep and relaxed in reflective active prayer, thankful for such favor. With each new plant or bug that she encountered she thought of Linda, and how the two would go for walks to harvest greenery and roots for Linda’s supply and knew the old woman would have procured a hundred cuttings before leaving the oasis. She giggled aloud at the thought and rounded a corner to find a glittering waterfall from a collection of springs that fed a large pool below the rocks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She knelt by the water and closed her eyes to feel the cool mist from the falls dance across her sunburned face. She had read the way explorers described the desert oases as beautiful beyond words after wandering unforgiving sands, and now she understood just how right they were. She had seen ponds and lakes before, roaring waterfalls that cascaded down from cliffs and mountains in a breathtaking show of natural force, but this was something else entirely. She understood wholeheartedly why it would be said that such places were created specifically as gifts from the gods. She sat for a moment to take it all in and wondered how many travelers over the course of history had prayed the same words of thanks she spoke to the cooling waters, in how many languages, and to how many gods? How many would sit where she sat in the future? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The water rippled just a few inches below the ledge where she sat, but there was no way to tell how deep the water truly was. However, despite her absolute lack of skill for swimming, after having reached down to feel the soothing water against her skin she chose to take the risk of leaning farther in hopes of soothing the pain she felt from traveling for days in the hot sun. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Confident that she was alone, she unbuttoned her shirt and dipped it into the water while letting the breeze blow across her bare arms. She still wore her undershirt, just in case Alex had decided to follow her, but just being free of the seams that dug into her shoulder and arm was enough reprieve to make her venture a worthy use of her time. She used the shirt as a rag to dab the cold water over the skin that never seemed to stop burning and closed her eyes as the pain faded for the first time in days. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She spent nearly an hour indulging in the feel of the cold water on her skin while sitting on the ledge with her feet dangling into the pool below. It was as if she had found another existence, and as long as she could feel the water, the dangers, fears, and heartache of her mission couldn’t reach her. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes to fall into a light meditation to the sounds of the falls rippling through the water in a sense of absolute peace until she was startled back to reality by Ardeth’s voice calling out behind her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She tried to cover herself properly before he could come close enough to see her, but between trying to frantically manipulate the soaked cotton shirt, and keep her balance on the wet sandstone while trying to scramble to her feet things were proving to be far more challenging than she had bargained for. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rick and Ardeth had both noticed her absence simultaneously upon their return and set off in different directions to find her after Alex’s guilty confession that he hadn’t tried to stop her from wandering off. The greenery was just was easy to lose direction as the sands, and she had proven her lack of skills for navigation already. While Ardeth had set out straight away to find her, Rick had delayed his departure to reprimand his son for not saying anything when she had left. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the medjai walked through the jungle oasis, calling Lysandra’s name and scanning for any signs of her, he heard her sharp, high pitched, gasp echo over the babbling of the springs. Her startled gasp was immediately followed by a splash that marked her unlucky descent into the water just as he pushed his way through the brush to catch sight of her struggle. He had already played a hand in nearly drowning her before and had learned the hard way that she couldn’t swim. Not wanting to tempt fate a second time with her watery grave he sprinted to her rescue and slid to a graceless stop at the edge of the pool.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She could hear him ranting rapidly in his native tongue as he reached down to  yank her out of the cold water out of the water before she drowned. She came up sputtering and clinging to his arm with both hands as he was her absolute lifeline. As she fought to reclaim her breath she came to the horrifying realization that her shirt still lay at the edge of the water. She froze as a swelling ache built in her throat and looked at him as he stared at her bare shoulders and arms, particularly her right side. The look of pity and confusion that he held while taking in the scarring that covered most of her right side had her feeling small under his gaze. She always did her best to hide her scars from anyone's sight, but it was inevitable that </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone</span>
  </em>
  <span> would see them at some point. She hadn’t expected it to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> to see them, however, and almost wished he would have let her drown.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He continued to watch her as she quickly pulled her shirt over herself and backed away from the water. He had suspected an injury of some sort to be the cause of her discomfort but had never imagined the scars she had fought so hard to keep secret. He couldn’t help but wonder what could have happened to cause such an injury and was more intrigued by her incredible secrecy of it. What could have happened that left her so ashamed?  Suddenly, her constant fidgeting with her sleeve and discomforts made such sense in his mind. In a way he felt pained to see her recoil so quickly, knowing the pain her old wounds still caused her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> "We need to get back to the others. Let's just go." She pushed past him to make her way back to camp but he didn't follow until she turned back to see him standing beside the break in the foliage. She realized at once that he had moved from his place beside the water to the path he had taken to find her. The same path she had followed to the falls in the first place. The one that would lead them back to the others safely. "Not a word, I don't even care," she swore, ignoring his unapologetic nod as he led her through the oasis back to camp. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their uncomfortable silence was broken when he cautiously spoke as they walked side-by-side, taking their time to reach their destination. Even with her soaked shirt secured to conceal her wounds, he could see small pieces of her scars peeking through her neckline.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Your scars," </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes, I know," she interrupted sharply, "Look, I already know what you're going to say so please don't. I've heard enough about my deformity." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She adjusted her shirt once again and stared back at him, but where she expected to find the mocking jests she had endured for most of her childhood and teen years, or absolute pity upon finding that she was so damaged, she only found concern and empathy. Things she had no idea how to properly react to. She could argue with the best of them, but very seldom had she had the opportunity to experience such compassion outside of her own family with Linda, and on rare occasions, Jonathan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You still feel pain from them," he nodded quietly. The sadness in his eyes had caught her completely off guard. She let her head fall to the side and looked up at him with hands on her hips. She scrunched her face as the wind blew against her eyes. That wasn’t at all what she was expecting to hear, and it was refreshing to know that someone understood the ghostly painful sensation she had been enduring in secret since the beginning of their venture. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “Well, I... yeah,” she nodded and kept her voice at a whisper as if speaking too loud would shatter an illusion of his compassion, “I do.” She fiddled with her shirt again while kicking awkwardly at the ground and gave another shrug, unsure of how to go about their conversation.  “The sun’s different out here. It gets hot at home, but not like this. I feel like I’m on fire every day now. It hurts all the time, and the longer I’m in the sun and the heat the more painful it gets.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Someone set fire to the museum where my granddad worked. He always brought me with him to ’help’ with his work. The fire broke out while we were cleaning some of the display artifacts, we were trapped. I never knew until I visited Samuel in Cairo that he was the one who burned the museum and killed granddad.” She paused and shook her head as tears built in her eyes, her anger returned full force alongside the sadness of her grandfather’s death. “Granddad pushed me out of the way when things started to fall around us. The museum went up fast, it was like one second everything was fine and the next it was all flames and smoke. We couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe. There was this… this big piece, with odd writing all over it. He said it was the only one of its kind, never seen anything else like it before. I used to trace my fingers over the writing trying to imagine what it said… anyway, I fell into it or- or it fell on me when he pushed me, I couldn’t see anything anymore, just dark under the slab and smoke, and all I knew was it felt like whatever fell on me was melting me alive. I have never felt anything like that since. Nothing that hurt that much… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Some things, they just don’t heal. Some pains, you wouldn’t want to see your worst enemy. Even this thing we’re chasing this cult for, the men you’re hunting, shoot them, stab them, but burning is just,” she couldn’t find the words to finish her thought and shuddered as quiet fell over them again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked up to read his expression finally to see that pity and sorrow in his eyes and rolled hers in response before pushing past him again to make her way back to camp, whether he followed or not. She was only half certain about her choice in direction, but hearing his footfalls behind hers was a boost in confidence. Either she had picked the right direction or they were about to get hopelessly lost together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The desert is a cruel adversary to those who do not know her. My people live because we respect the desert and know her dangers. There are ways to ease the sting when the sun burns you. I may be able to help with your pain, with your permission.” His eyes softened as he spoke to her. She had seen kindness in him before, encouragement toward Alex jokes with Rick, his inherent protective stance regarding Evy, and the others. While he had been there to protect her numerous times since the beginning of their adventure she had never seen him hold an expression quite like the one he wore. He looked almost saddened. The pity in his gaze was not one that questioned her worth, one she was irritably accustomed to when having her scars seen. Instead, he looked at her with sympathy and genuine concern with his offer but she shook her head and waved him off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The water’s fine for now. It isn’t so hot with the sun going down and it doesn’t hurt as much at night when it cools off.” Her hair bounced around her head as she nodded with her words. She found a sudden interest in the hem of her shirt and avoided looking at him, entirely unsure of how to react to his concern. “But ahm, thank you, though… for wanting to help.” She peeked up through her fallen strands of hair and gave a sheepish smile to which he bowed lightly and continued to lead her through the foliage. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What were you thinking?” Rick was on his feet and storming over to them the moment Ardeth emerged from the brush to their campsite. She had barely had time to step foot into the clearing before he was on her like Linda the time she had been caught sneaking out of their cottage to meet a young boy. “Do you have </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> idea how dangerous that was! Your little stunt could have gotten you killed! We don’t know what, or who could be lurking around a place like this. You could have gotten lost, or killed, or injured or-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Rick, that’s quite enough. She is not a child, and certainly not </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> child.” Evy cut him off from her place beside the fire and barely glanced over her shoulder with her reprimand. “Oh, now I think he’s quite right! Going off galavanting in a strange oasis, no idea where you’re going or where you’re off to. Not even having the courtesy to tell us that she’s going! It’s far too dangerous.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jonathan, do shut up. Rick, please come sit, your food is getting cold.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, thank god for Evy.” Lysandra leaned slightly closer to Ardeth so that no one else could hear her murmur of praise before they joined the others by the fire for dinner. It was an attempted stew that used most of their remaining rations, as there was not enough left of anything to feed them all. Evy had done her best, but the soupy mess that sat in the pot over the fire was anything but delectable. However, it was food, and they were hungry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As usual, Lysandra avoided any close proximity to the fire and chose to sit beside the sullen, sandy-headed boy who had yet to so much as look at her since her return. “How long did it take before you had to tell?” She nudged him with her shoulder while he sat with his head down, face set in a guilty frown. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know that no one is upset with you, right? I’m sure your dad had a few things to say, but you didn’t do anything wrong Alex. If you didn’t send a search party after me I probably wouldn’t have found my way back anyway… I can’t navigate my way out of a wet box.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You led us out of the woods by your house.” He finally looked up with an accusatory glare to counter her words of comfort. </span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I led you through an area I know my way around in. Completely different from actually navigating unfamiliar territory, kid.” She smirked and knocked into him again. Her smile widened when his body countered by knocking into hers in return, accompanied by the smallest giggle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Andy, why are you all wet anyway?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, uhm well, I,” she stammered awkwardly and bit down on her lip while he stared her down. There was no way to spin her misfortune while protecting her pride, so she answered with a straight forward, “I fell in the water. Ardeth had to pull me out.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have </span>
  <em>
    <span>got</span>
  </em>
  <span> to learn how to swim, Andy. You live by a river for crying out loud!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She snorted and returned her attention to the “soup” in her cup and playfully ignored him. He was right, it was obscure that she had grown up beside a river and still couldn’t swim. However, the lessons for swimming simply hadn’t been necessary. There were so many other things she had learned and had to face, that swimming just never made a priority. “Well to be fair I didn’t expect to need </span>
  <em>
    <span>swimming lessons</span>
  </em>
  <span> to go adventuring through the </span>
  <em>
    <span>desert</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Alex.” The laughter her retort pulled from him was such a mimic of his parents. His voice channeled Evy to a T, while his mannerisms were every bit a picture of Rick. The way his head tilted back, one knee bent with his arm resting over it, lazily holding his cup of soup in the other, he was a mirror image of his father. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After the excitement of her independent venture had worn off and dinner had been served, eaten, and cleaned, it was a surprisingly short time before the only one left awake was Ardeth as he kept watch over their party. Even Lysandra had drifted off to sleep easily, for the first time since he had known her. She had mentioned earlier while settling down that being surrounded by the greenery felt more comfortable to her, like a taste of home. She wrapped herself in the blanket Rick had given to her and snuggled down after washing the dishes from dinner. They talked for a short while about the difference being surrounded by open desert against oasis foliage, but sleep whisked her away early in the night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He found himself watching her as she slept. She was not a restful sleeper, often turning or twitching, or grumbling incoherently. However, between fits of restlessness, she would settle and seem almost blissful, even smiling in the calm of her sleep. She had pulled the blanket around herself so that all that was truly visible of her was the bridge of her nose to the top of her head. Her untamed curls sprawled across the ground around her, bunching into a small heap over her face when she rolled. Occasionally her most stubborn lock that seemed to always find its way over her face would tickle her nose, producing an awkward snort as she would unconsciously brush it away and return her hands to the comfort of the blanket's warmth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm, I do that sometimes with Evy when she sleeps.” Rick’s sudden words startled him from his musings. He shot the American a firm look while gathering himself to trade places and sleep for the night while Rick took the next watch. Rick, however, only offered a goofy smile and sarcastic salute and took his position while the medjai wordlessly retired to his bed for the night. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As always, thank you so much for supporting this story! I'm quite sure this is my favorite chapter yet, and I can't wait to know what you think of it! Leave your thoughts in the comments! Your feedback helps keep me motivated to continue posting the updates. </p><p>Much love to you all, and enjoy chapter 10! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As much heartbreak as Lysandra suffered before leaving Cairo, returning to the city was a welcome homecoming after the harshness of the desert. The final push after leaving the oasis was the most brutal for the travelers after having come to the end of their rations and left them exhausted, filthy, stinking of sweat, and starving by the time they arrived. They all shared unspoken joy to return to the comforts of their rooms and collapsed in quiet indulgence as each took their turn bathing and changing into fresh clothing. Due to a surprise change in rooming arrangements while they were away they had returned to find their belongings had been moved from their originally interconnected rooms. They had been forced to split between two rooms across the hall from one another, but even still their lodging was just as luxurious as their last stay.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought you said you were never gonna room with me and Jonathan ever again,” Lysandra smirked after finishing her bath to find Ardeth seated in the communal space of their suite. She continued to scrunch her curls with a small towel, reveling in the gentle scent of the perfumed soaps that lingered on her skin and hair as she claimed a place on the sofa opposite of him. He nodded and offered a smile as she took her seat and laughed lightly. “I tried to avoid it, but O’Connell won the fight. It would seem he has even less tolerance for the two of you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She tried to feign offense but her giggling gave her away. It was such a change to be back in the comfort of the hotel. The soft furniture was a welcome alternative to the hard ground, and words could not express the satisfying relaxation of feeling clean and refreshed after a good bath and fresh clothes. It was almost as if their adventure through the desert had been a dream, and they now had returned to reality. “To be fair it’s probably better that he stays with Evy and Alex anyway. I’m sure they feel safer with their family together.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nodded his agreement and watched as she reached into her bag and pulled out the worn and weathered old journal that she had read enough to have nearly memorized cover-to-cover. She fondly caressed the faded green scarab on the cover and snuggled down comfortably to read it once again. She mouthed the words to herself like a silent prayer and her toes happily every so often as she read. It was a habit he had never noticed before but found quite endearing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She glanced up from her book and smiled as he watched her and began to read her grandfather’s notes aloud. “Medjai. Royal guard and elite soldiers. Identified by particular uniform but more so by markings tattooed across the face and body. Very little is known about their order, but my findings lead me to believe that their dedication was to more than protecting royals. I am certain there is more hidden in the sands than empty tombs and ancient treasures.” She glanced up again to see the curiosity and intent with which he listened to her reading and chose to embellish the old notes with some contributions of her own. “Additionally, it would seem that Medjai are also skilled in navigation, fighting off giant statues, and tolerating annoying, treasure hunting, Englishman.” She snickered as Jonathan joined them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I believe you forgot search and rescue and keeping unskilled American women from drowning,” he shot back and fell back into the comfort of a lounge chair with a bottle of scotch in hand. “Cheers, to the comforts of civilization.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Ardeth raised his own glass with a smile while Lysandra reached out and snatched the bottle from Jonathan’s possession, much to the Englishman’s aggravated protest. “Cheers,” she winked before helping herself to a long, well-deserved drink before passing it back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The silence that followed their toast was serenely content between the three of them. Jonathan lounged at ease in his adopted chair, sprawled about in the least-gentlemanly manner as he soaked up the comforts he had been missing. Occasionally he would take a drink of his scotch and dramatically sigh at the refreshing nature of a well-deserved drink. Lysandra remained curled up on one end of the couch, with her back against the armrest and shoulder propped happily against the pillowy backing of the sofa. The red of the fabric reflected off the already rosy tint on her sunburned face and brightened the hue against her fair skin. Every so often she glanced up from her beloved journal to watch her roommates as they relaxed and simply enjoyed the luxury of having the ability to sit together in such a way. It was a perfect picture that she hoped never to lose in her mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ardeth sat at the opposite end of the sofa, dressed in fresh clothes of a much more casual nature than she had been used to seeing. The clothes he had worn through their desert adventure had been discarded to be washed along with the rest of their expedition laundry and replaced with a comfortable belted coat over loose-fitting trousers and shirt. As expected he kept with black as his color of choice, but this coat was adorned with fine silver embroidery in intricate patterns down the front and sleeves that left her secretly jealous that his clothes were prettier than hers. It was odd to see him unarmed and unadorned by his belts, scarves, and bandoliers as he lounged with so much ease, but it also brought a sense of comfortable familiarity. As if they had come home from war to civilian life together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kept his weapons within reach. A knife on the coffee table, his scimitar leaned against the side of the couch beside him, but his demeanor was such a contrast to what she had of him when on guard. After so many nights of vigilance to ensure their survival, she was glad to see him find time to be at ease and rest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Say, Andy, how much have you thought about new shoes? Certainly, you won’t be wandering around in those filthy old wrappings from here on.” Jonathan leaned forward in his chair to rest his elbows on his knees and set his bottle on the table. She glanced up from the journal and absent-mindedly wiggled her toes as if she had suddenly just remembered that she had feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“To be honest I haven’t thought about them at all. When they moved our things to our new rooms, I still had my shoes from before we left with my things. I figured I’d just wear those.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, those dingy old slippers won’t do. You might as well run about shoeless.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“To be fair, Jonathan, not only have I been shoeless the past few days, I normally don’t wear them at all. You know that I’ve worn shoes more since you broke into my house than I have in the last year.” She rolled her eyes and returned her focus to the journal, turning the book back to the beginning and immersing herself in her grandfather’s writing all over again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Skipping about the garden is rather different than roaming the desert.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really? I had no idea. Ardeth, did you know that the desert is so different than my vegetable garden? Could have sworn they were the same thing.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Christ, Andy, you are the worst. I’m only trying to help you!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Take a nap, Jonathan, I’m just playing around.” She gave a deep sigh and set the journal on the table before pulling her housecoat tighter around her legs and settling more against the couch. “We’re exhausted. We’re in pain, we’re worn out, and honestly, I’m a little pissed that we spent so long out there to come back with nothing and back at square one. I don’t want to start a fight. I just don’t want to worry about shoes, or cults, or the end of the world right now. I want to relax, and for tonight just pretend that everything will be okay. Okay?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jonathan sighed and scrubbed his palms over his face to muffle an exasperated groan. After a moment of silence between the two, he stood and made his way for the door without another word. As the door latched behind him she stared at the empty space where he had sat and blinked back a few exhausted tears. She could see Ardeth watching her from the corner of her eye and tried to play that she was unbothered by Jonathan’s departure but like so many times before he saw right through her guise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rather than trying to make her talk about what she felt, which she was undyingly thankful for, he gestured toward the scarab journal and questioned how many more times she intended to read it. He had observed over the course of their adventure that the quickest way to pull her out of any level of upset or emotional state was for her to talk about her research or that of her grandfather. He had even found that she would talk herself to sleep if he asked the right questions late enough in the night. She had yet to catch onto his strategic ploy, and thus far it had served him well. However, he was surprised this time to find she had no enthusiastic facts to answer with, no wide-eyed excitement, or anecdote to share through a beaming smile. Instead, she simply shrugged her shoulders and shook her head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. I’m not even sure why I keep reading it.” She let her hair curtain her face with her admittance but he could still clearly see the way her brows knit together as she trapped the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth. He adjusted his seating to face her better, leaving them both sideways on the sofa leaned against the armrests, and watched her run a hand through her curls and scan the room as if searching for an answer to unspoken riddles. “Sometimes I read it because I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m missing something. I know there’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>hidden there that could help us. But, sometimes, I read it because I… if I try hard enough I can almost hear his voice, he liked to say things out loud when he wrote things down and some parts I can still hear, and I just miss him </span>
  <em>
    <span>so much</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I just wish he was still here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In many ways he is. You carry his words with you, consult his knowledge that has become your own, you share his passion. I have no doubt that he is still at your side, Lysandra.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She whimpered in place of what she had intended to be words and leaned forward over her legs to try and hide her tears. She knew it was a futile effort but at least she couldn’t see him if she folded herself in half. Her breath came in sporadic gasps between stints of holding her breath in failed attempts to feign composure. The result was pained gurgling sounds as she suffocated herself to avoid the shame of openly sobbing in front of her medjai companion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ardeth felt pain of his own as he watched her tremble in a heap of damp curls and light fabric with her housecoat and nightdress pooled around her. It was not the furious anguish she had succumbed to after he and Rick had pulled her from the Willington house. Not the complete loss of control that had left her screaming hysterically on the floor. It was a deeper and more personal battle that she was losing, and a soulful mourning cry of someone who had gone all too long without admitting their sorrows. He knew that his words had broken free a part of the barriers she had protected herself with as he watched her endure a lifetime of pain in a single instant. Pain she had avoided for years. An accomplishment that, until now,  she prided herself on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> As their journey progressed he had found himself increasingly more intrigued by her, and in turn had begun to watch her more closely. He had found himself entertained by the genuine joy and excitement she displayed upon seeing ancient places and locations. Moved by her absolute passion and respect for the world of the past and forgotten people.  And unsettled by her way of turning off emotion and changing focus to something less troubling, or changing a subject of discussion, and even physically fleeing altogether, which had gone unnoticed for the most part by their companions. Each time she was forced to run from her pain he found himself more troubled, and yet more curious to learn her story. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He leaned across the sofa to rest a hand over one of hers to stop her from clawing at the fabric of the cushions in her search of any way to anchor herself. Immediately, she trapped his hand with hers held onto him with the same desperation she had when he plucked her from the oasis waters. Finally, she relented and surrendered to the ache of grief she had been stubbornly ignoring. His free hand found a place on her shoulder to still her as she convulsed through her breakdown. He spoke hushed prayers of comfort traditional to his own life and tightened his grasp on her hand to match her white-knuckled hold on his to convey a silent promise that he would see her through this battle, just as any other.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With the passing of time, she reigned herself in enough to sit silently after stopping the flow of tears. After relinquishing her hold on his hand she hesitantly sat up to face him, and whatever judgment he might have for her behavior but the moment he saw her face his expression turned from concern to sympathetic amusement. Her hair was an absolute mess after she had let it dry spread around her on the couch, and if his experience watching her fight her curls was any indication of the task that lay ahead of her, she would be spending the rest of the night trying to tame them. Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen, and face reddened from a harsh combination of tearstained blotches and sunburn. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In response to his barely-subdued smile, her mouth fell open and brows raised in the same face of disbelief she often gave Jonathan after being insulted which only served to pull a guiltless chuckle from the medjai beside her. Ever the strategist, Ardeth chose to employ her own tactics to his defense and changed the subject from her disheveled state to one of slightly more importance. He leaned back against the couch comfortably and nodded as he spoke. “You should consider finding new shoes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She scoffed and blinked a few times, flabbergasted, but made a quick recovery by swinging a small throw pillow at him. He blocked the attack with ease and tossed the pillow into Jonathan’s empty chair, safely out of her reach. Her laughter was a welcome sound and the smile that graced her worn features was a comfort to see. “My shoes are <em>fine!</em> They’re just… very loved, is all.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time Jonathan returned Lysandra had fallen asleep and Ardeth had moved to give her room to sleep comfortably. The room was silent apart from her quiet snoring and Jonathan was surprised to see that the medjai had chosen to busy himself with studying the mysterious scarab journal that so rarely left her hands. Ardeth was equally surprised to see that the Englishman had remained surprisingly sober, despite having spent nearly the entire night out for drinks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She, um, she’s doing all right then?” His voice was tired as he gestured toward the sleeping woman on the couch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ardeth nodded and returned the journal to the table. “She is tired, and she worries too much.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jonathan pursed his lips and awkwardly pulled at the hem of his jacket. There was plenty he wanted to say but couldn’t find a way to form the words. He watched Lysandra sleep peacefully, sprawled across the crimson couch in her light cream colored nightdress and coat. She looked like a renaissance painting, peaceful and serene when she wasn’t scrunched or grimacing against unpleasant dreams. “Well, ah, I best be off to bed myself,” he announced with a sigh, “lots to do, cults to stop, mummies to fight and all that.” Again, Ardeth nodded and watched him as he made his way to the bedroom that Lysandra clearly wouldn’t be using that night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The morning brought gluttonous indulgence in favored breakfast foods. Pancakes, crepes, eggs, sausages, ham, and biscuits and more littered the table in a colorfully delightful feast. If it could have been eaten for breakfast, it was delivered to their rooms along with teas, coffee, and fresh fruit juices. The sweet aromas of fresh fruit mixed with that of spiced teas and salty breakfast meats in a mouthwatering blend. Rather than ordering meals to both rooms, the breakfast feast was delivered to the room shared by the O’Connell family, where everyone gathered to begin their day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra and Alex shared childish excitement over their favorite foods and celebrated having so many choices at their disposal. Lysandra had never seen so much food at once, and unlike Alex, put an effort to avoid eating herself sick. However, it was quite challenging when so many delicious options sat ready for the taking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Has anyone seen Ardeth, should I set a plate aside for him? I’d hate for him to miss this breakfast after we’ve been living on dried travel rations.” Lysandra had already reached for an empty plate while speaking. She wasn’t sure which foods he would have wanted from the table but had every intention of loading the plate with everything that would keep and still taste good after sitting. Rick reached over and took the plate from her hands and set it aside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Calm down, mom, he already ate.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While she blankly sent a questioning glance toward him as he enjoyed his breakfast Evy cut in with much-needed answers. “He’s gone out to find out more about our mysterious cult and their whereabouts. If we can’t find the relics themselves, perhaps we can find the people who took them. I’ll be heading off to the museum to have a look around and see what I can find there as well if you’d like to accompany me. It’s quite a magnificent collection.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra bit down on her lip and pushed the food aimlessly around her plate, arranging syrup and fruits into random patterns. It was a tempting offer considering the Cairo museum was known for having the most extensive collection of ancient Egyptian antiquities, one her grandfather had always wanted to see. She knew it was an opportunity that she might not have another chance to see but the more she weighed the excitement of seeing </span>
  <em>
    <span>the</span>
  </em>
  <span> Cairo Museum of Egyptian Antiquities the more it was countered by a pang of guilt and heartache. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that I don’t want to,” she spoke carefully, “because I do. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>do but as much as I love museums, and seeing the pieces of history they have, they’re hard for me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Which is exactly why ole Jonathan will be along for the ride. We’ll go look at some old Egyptian stuff, and when you need to go, we’ll explore some more interesting aspects of Cairo.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, you two will come straight back here, because we need to lay low, remember? No exploring ‘more interesting’ anything. Straight there, straight back.” Rick cut Jonathan off, and he and Lysandra both glowered back at him like scolded teenagers. Lysandra rolled her eyes and bitterly shoved another chunk of strawberry syrup saturated pancake into her mouth while Jonathan lifted his orange juice to sarcastically toast, “Rightio, pops.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Having been convinced by Jonathan’s offer to leave with her should the museum visit prove unpleasant, Lysandra finished her breakfast and made herself presentable to be seen in public. The uncomfortable weight in her stomach as she followed the Carnahan siblings to the museum signaled instant regret for the amount she had eaten. She fought the urge to waddle along behind them as a result. It was a long walk that she chose to believe would do her good after gorging herself but that positive attitude did little to ease her discomfort. However, as the Cairo Museum came into view, the giddiness she felt overshadowed her discomfort completely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While Evy ventured off in her search for information Lysandra wandered the displays in awe of the expansive collection. From ancient writings to burials of kings and great statues, and as Jonathan pointed out, a wealth of invaluable treasures, it took everything she had not to break the rules and reach out to touch the displays. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, I haven’t really visited a museum since I lost granddad,” she admitted while admiring a particularly interesting piece of writing. It was familiar to one that her grandfather had kept in his secret collection, away from the museum that employed him. There were so many artifacts that shattered her heart to know her grandfather never had the chance to see, but even the extensive collection of the Cairo Museum paled in comparison to standing in the ancient temple in person with no restriction to what she could see or touch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jonathan leaned casually against a sarcophagus and snickered as she gave the same disapproving look he often earned from his sister.  “How </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>you manage so much of your research without visiting places like this?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smirked and shoved him away from the sarcophagus before muttering an apology to the mummy who rested inside. “People like you,” she shrugged, “treasure hunters who want to know what they have. Or appraisers who have done work for those treasure hunters and have information about them. That’s why I’ve traveled so much, you have to chase the clues to find the answers.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And that is precisely why you are such an important addition to this expedition. We need that skill.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gave a subdued “humph” and followed him aimlessly through the displays. As much as she was fascinated with ancient Egypt through her grandfather's work, she had never learned to translate the ancient language and so any research that could have been done was left to Evy. Their visit was one purely of entertainment and exploration, but after circling the collection twice over, the entertainment value drastically dwindled. Without the excitement of wandering halls and galleries of new discoveries and sights, there was far more time for grief to set in as she thought of her grandfather. It wasn’t long before Jonathan had noticed the threat of tears in her eyes and whisked her away to break Rick’s rules and explore sights he boasted as “far more interesting” locations. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just like old times, the two eventually found themselves seated in the corner of a darkened bar far from any “acceptable establishment” of upper-class society. They sat surrounded by drunks, gamblers, and unsavory characters with a bottle between them and cloudy, questionably cleaned shot glasses in their hands. The scent of low quality booze and sweat brought back memories of their time in London as she cringed her way through the burn of another shot. “Admit it, Andy, you missed this.” The suave smirk was the same as it had been the night they met and she couldn’t help but laugh in reply, too stubborn to admit that she truly had. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Missed watching you make an ass of yourself, maybe.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The return to Cairo had brought such a break from the stresses she had been carrying and with each welcomed distraction she found herself counting blessings. While they sat in the shabby, off-the-path dive of a bar, she had gotten everything she had hoped for the night before. She didn’t have to worry about cults, or the end of the world, or even her shoes. For the time being, she could have a drink, imagine life was still the same before she had gotten involved in such a mission, and pretend that everything was okay. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had purchased and emptied two full bottles before history began to repeat itself in a way neither of them would have hoped for sober but intoxicated it was a dream come true as they stumbled their way through the streets of Cairo together. Neither able to stand without the other’s support, shrill and undignified laughter at each other’s expense, terrible singing, and Lysandra’s bare feet as she carried her shoes in hand. It was as if they had time-traveled back to their week together in London and while the farthest corner of her mind knew Rick would have their necks for doing exactly the opposite of what he had ordered, she couldn’t bring herself to care as they spent the evening bar-hopping and exploring the uncharted side of the city.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time they swaggered, shuffled, and bumbled their way back to their hotel, night had bathed the city in blackness and the streets had nearly emptied. Their return was anything but stealthy, full of tawdry snorts of laughter. Their arrival was announced to their cohorts, as much as they had </span>
  <em>
    <span>intended</span>
  </em>
  <span> to sneak by unnoticed, by a rumbling collapse as the two tumbled to the floor just a few doors down from their rooms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jonathan had lost his balance and knocked into Lysandra, who instinctively tried to catch him. Instead, she squealed as they tumbled in an unsophisticated and painful heap, knocking their heads against each other while bouncing off of the wall beside them. Under normal circumstances, she may have groaned in pain, but all she could do was shove Jonathan off of her and continue to sputter failed attempts of containing her laughter while they shushed each other, even when Rick stormed down the hall to collect them with Evy and Ardeth in tow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>thought</span>
  </em>
  <span> we agreed to </span>
  <em>
    <span>lay low!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He snapped through gritted teeth while hoisting Jonathan up by his shirt. Lysandra dumbly looked up at him with a chortled and slurred response, “Rick, we’re on the floor! How much lower do you want me to lay?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All he could manage to do over Jonathan’s amusement was to stare at her, dumbfounded, and shove Jonathan back toward Evy to care for. He was her brother after all, and therefore her responsibility by default. Lysandra used the wall to claw her way to her feet and swayed in place a moment before patting Rick on the chest and brushing past him to find her room, in no mood for his attitude. “You, make </span>
  <em>
    <span>damn</span>
  </em>
  <span> sure they stay put.” Ardeth merely nodded in response to his order and followed the two drunks to leave him to his fuming. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Like all troublemakers who get caught and reprimanded for sneaking out, the two were forced to calm as their excitement and amusement left them. Evy had carefully placed her brother on the couch and left the moment Ardeth came in to watch over them while Lysandra stumbled her way into the bedroom to surrender to the sudden impact of exhaustion. This was the part she had dreaded, and that had kept her from drinking to such an extent for so many years. The dizzying, blinding, sickening exhaustion that left her miserable and swearing off the bottle with every intent to keep her word this time but deep down knowing that she wouldn’t.  She did however spend the night, as miserable as she felt, thinking about the way Ardeth had held her hand the night before as she mourned her grandfather. The way the warmth of his hand burned against hers and chased away the chill. The way he held onto her as tightly as she clung to him, and how comforting his gesture had been. She wished wholeheartedly he would sit beside her and hold her hand again as she endured what she had convinced herself were her final moments before she died of alcohol poisoning, and eventually lulled herself to sleep with such girlish thoughts. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This semester really got the best of me, and I did not have it in me to write. I sincerely apologize for that. The last couple of months hit me hard and my mental health paid the price, but I'm back now and on winter break, and writing as well as ever! I hope you enjoy this chapter, it took almost all semester LOL! </p><p>Chapter 12 should be finished and posted soon! Enjoy, and please leave your thoughts so that I know someone is still reading this.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Loud, incessant, merciless knocking. That’s what pulled Lysandra from the comforting embrace of sleep’s clutches. Repetitive, rhythmic, unrelenting beating that resonated through the wooden frame of the bed and more so through her head. No matter how she burrowed beneath the pillow she couldn’t escape the resounding </span>
  <em>
    <span>thunk...thunk...thunk</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The noise was nauseating as it rippled through her entire being and kept her from returning to sleep’s sweet embrace. The more she was pulled into waking reality the worse she felt until all she could do was release a pitiful moan of misery. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thunk...thunk....thunk! </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rhythmic torture continued despite her protests. The weight of her head was terribly noticeable with every movement. A violent ache settled behind her eyes and at the base of her skull. The light coming through the window assaulted her with an assassin’s malice. Still, the drumming continued even as she battled a rush of hot saliva and forced a breath against the bilious uneasiness in her stomach that warned of an imminent evacuation of its contents. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, as she made sense of her many ailments, she emerged from her pillowy sanctuary to investigate the source of the tormenting knocks. As her eyes focused on the culprit she huffed and collapsed face down back against the bed. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>, stop,” she groaned into the balled up blanket. However, the medjai at the foot of her bed merely released a sharp breath through his nose to convey his refusal and continued to strike his sheathed scimitar against the side of her bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please, Ardeth, I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>begging </span>
  </em>
  <span>you to stop it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ardeth casually remained leaned against the wall beside her bed and granted a reprieve just long enough to instill her with the false hope of mercy before he continued on like an unforgiving metronome. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll stop when you are out of bed and on your feet.” Though she couldn’t see him he still fought to resist the smile that pulled at his features. She was so like a child in her complaintive refusal to leave her bed and seemed blissfully unaware of the danger that ceaselessly threatened them. However, as amiable as waking her on a calm and breezy morning might have been, her behavior the night before would not go unpunished.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra whined and buried her face more in the blanket, muffling her voice to the point of being barely audible. “Why are you doing this? Go bother Jonathan.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Evaline has taken him to meet his own punishment. Also, he did not plead to be my student. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He </span>
  </em>
  <span>is not my responsibility. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You </span>
  </em>
  <span>are lucky I am the one left with you, O’Connell is still furious over your actions last night.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thunk… thunk...thunk!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra groaned again with more force and begrudgingly vacated the comfort of bed. Though she wavered in place and could barely hold her eyes open against the light, the moment her feet touched the floor the arduous knocking ceased. As she tottered in place her face scrunched in a miserable fashion. He watched as her head tilted to the side with a furrowed brow. Her eyes closed completely against the light so that she could think a little bit better, to no avail. Finally, with all the speed of a dazed sloth, she looked up at him through squinted eyes. “What ‘actions’, Ardeth? What the hell did we do?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She strained to keep eye contact with him, but the light from the window was too sharp against her eyes. The best she could manage was an eventual surrender by leaning against the wall to use Ardeth’s body to block the sun. To add insult to her injury he moved aside to keep the sun in her face. “The two of you disappeared for the night and left the rest of us to wonder what had become of you. Then, in the latest hours of the night, you return in a drunken stupor beyond any reasoning. Your selfish ignorance put not only yourselves, but all of us, and our cause at risk!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She flinched at his stern disapproval and fought to recall the details of her and Jonathan’s antics. She couldn’t pretend to be surprised that the night was a hazy blur, many of their London adventures were quite the same way. The difference was, then it was only their lives at risk and only of alcohol poisoning. She hadn’t thought about the dangers they could have brought down on their company. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She fought against the throbbing ache in her head brought by the blaze of the sun and looked up at him through the fallen hair over her eyes as she hung her head. Her arms anxiously found solace wrapped around her middle. “I’m sorry, Ardeth.” Had he not been watching her he wouldn’t have known she had spoken. Her voice came so quietly, partly from the throbbing of her head and partly from shameful remorse, that her words were barely audible.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What would you have done if our enemies had found you? You could barely stand on your own. Anything could have happened to you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I…” she frowned and lost her retort. As she had gotten to know him over the course of their adventure she had learned to understand what he chose not to say along with his words. His jaw was firmly set, and though he stared her down with his questioning any time she looked up to meet his gaze he looked away from her. He stood across from her, tense and unwavering as ever, but there was something off about him. Something different behind his admonishment that he hid well enough to keep her from reading exactly what it was. “I just got caught up in pretending everything was all right. Can’t be afraid if you’re too drunk to feel fear. I really </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> sorry Ardeth. I didn’t mean to upset you. O-or anyone, I didn’t mean to upset anyone.” Her hands came up again to awkwardly push her hair behind her ears while her teeth trapped her bottom lip and her gaze fell to their feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should eat.” He left their awkward silence for the comfort of the sitting room. The best she could manage in reply was a barely audible “hm,” and followed behind him to find a place on the couch to collapse and endure the rest of her hangover. Just as she was about to embrace the comfort of the darkened room and curl up with a small throw pillow on the couch he threw the curtains open to flood the room with light and stole the pillow from her. “Are you really going to punish me for this? I think my throbbing head should be enough punishment on its own, right?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shook his head and slid a towel-wrapped plate across the coffee table to her. Much to her appreciation the food that had been left for her consisted mainly of bland bread and porridge, and water. The flavorless choice of menu on any other day would have been disappointing, but in her condition, she was thrilled by the plain and simple nature of her breakfast. Though as light on her stomach as the meal was, she could only manage a few bites before surrendering to her ailments and settling on just sipping the water as her breakfast. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were so many things that could have been her punishment for sneaking off. Being forced into the sunlit room and not being allowed to sleep off her hungover misery was far from the worst-case and she knew it. Ardeth could have been considering forcing her to train despite her self-wrought distress, though he looked nearly as tired as she felt which led her to believe she was safe from such a torturous lesson. The most difficult to endure, however, was the silence. It was not a comfortable, content silence but one full of tension, and obvious unspoken thoughts from both parties.  While she fought to solve the riddle of how to ease the discomfort she wondered how Jonathan was doing and what Evy had chosen for his punishment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her pensive thinking was interrupted by light rustling at the door. The sound wasn’t what caught her attention so much as Ardeth’s reaction to it. While she sat curiously on the couch and watched the door for answers, he slowly rose to his feet, armed himself, and moved without a sound to a more strategic position of defense. Anxious of what could be waiting just outside the safety of their room Lysandra stood to move to a safer position as well, but the speed at which she moved caused her head to spin to a nauseating degree. It took everything she had as she slid down the wall to the floor a few feet from Ardeth to keep the contents of her stomach within her body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Though only a minute or two had passed, it felt like an hour had gone by before the telltale “click” of the door’s lock echoed through the tense silence. Ardeth stood statuesque, and calm waiting for their uninvited guest to step foot through the threshold, seemingly unphased by the danger they were in. She, however, was quite phased and quite visibly so. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The stranger crept in without a sound. Had they been asleep, or even distracted, they never would have known he was there. He was armed with a pistol in one hand and a machete at his hip and moved with distinct purpose. He scanned the room with a great deal of caution but the moment he turned and caught sight of Ardeth he moved like lightning and took aim at the medjai. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One shot rang out, Lysandra covered her ears and screamed at the sudden unbearable volume of the shot, Ardeth moved his blade with expert precision, and the assassin began screaming and thrashing on the ground while fighting for his machete all in a matter of seconds. Blood was everywhere, and Lysandra screamed a second time before kicking the intruder’s severed hand away from her.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sound, the smell of the blood, the sight of the wounded would-be assassin writhing in pain while Ardeth kept his blade at his throat to debate between killing or questioning him was all too much when added to the crippling migraine and stomach-churning sickness of having spent an entire night draining countless bottles of varied alcoholic beverages. Lysandra finally lost the battle and wretched on all fours before desperately trying to pull her hair back with one hand as she threw up what little she had eaten for breakfast. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Easy there, Pirate!” Lysandra choked the moment the raspy, aged voice reached her ears. Ardeth spun around to face the old woman, his hair and clothing dancing around him at the sudden movement to take in the new addition to their unexpected party. “That idiot’s on our side.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The “idiot” continued to hold his wounded arm to his chest arm and whimper in agony at the medjai’s feet while Linda leisurely made her way over to him and nudged him with her foot. “Well, serves you right for breaking in and shootin’ at the man when you could’ve just knocked like any normal person. Stop your cryin’, you’ll live. You’re not the first man to lose a hand.” He looked up at her in furious disbelief but she showed not a shred of sympathy. “Wrap it up, you’re bleeding all over,” she dropped a bandage from her shoulder bag onto his chest with her order and reached out for Ardeth’s arm to steady herself as she stood. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“To be fair, there may have been a miscommunication earlier when I told him to find Sprout and the pirate and get her safe. I should’ve mentioned you’re Medjai... poor dummy was probably looking for a god honest peg-legged pirate.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You said she was in danger! I saw him with her and followed </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> orders, you rickety bitch!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Rickety </span>
  <em>
    <span>old</span>
  </em>
  <span> bitch, don’t forget you’re speaking to an elder. Have some respect.” She ignored any further complaints from him and turned to check on Lysandra, who sat on the floor shocked and trembling by a puddle of her own sick. A perfect picture of confused misery. Ardeth couldn’t deny the hint of fascination as Linda pulled away from him and pushed a section of hair behind her ear before standing with her hands on her hips and head tilted to the side to stare the younger woman down with utter disapproval. It was no question as to where Lysandra had gotten her habits from. Without much to say regarding Lysandra’s condition, she turned back to Ardeth. “We’ll talk in your friend’s room and I’ll have someone clean this mess up. Which one do you want to drag out of here, stumpy or the mess?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ardeth gave a low chuckle and stepped forward toward Lysandra in reply and allowed Linda to tend to her one-handed accomplice herself. Linda’s eyes crinkled with a barely hidden smile as she observed his movements. For every lack of grace and dignity her pitiful Sprout displayed in her miserable heap he made up for in stride with his steadily composed movements. He reached out and hauled the small woman to her feet in a motion that was effortless and stern and anything but unkind. Linda and her wounded counterpart seemed to have been forgotten as he measured his confidence that Lysandra was steady on her feet before taking his hand from her shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had been a while since Linda had seen her look anything akin to bashful despite her naturally quiet and shy nature. She felt a stir of surprise when Lysandra looked up at him through her lashes and kept her head downcast rather than stubbornly meeting his quiet jest head-on as she had expected. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Linda was much less gentle when collecting her counterpart and chose to rouse him with a merciless nudge to the hip with her foot. “I’m not as strong as I used to be, so can’t carry your sorry self out of here. Up and at ‘em tough guy, on your feet.” Her order was light-hearted and caught Ardeth’s attention more than Lysandra’s as she closed her eyes against the light and noise and drawled about her discomfort. There was so much in Linda’s movements and way of her voice that reminded him of Lysandra. The dismissive shake of her head that sent stray locks of unkept and wild hair falling into her face and the subtle roll of her eyes while her injured friend protested were hauntingly the same as Lysandra’s movements. So much so that it unsettled him, as if he were looking through a window in time at a future image of the woman beside him. The thing that captivated him most was in the way Linda turned to face him once the one-handed man was unsteadily standing beside her. She turned and stood with her hands at her hips and shook the hair out of her eyes to stare fixedly over his shoulder and bit down on the corner of her lip while slipping into thought for just a moment before blinking her attention back to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll let’s get ‘em moving. I’m sure your friends will be back soon and we can discuss what you’ll be up to next. I’m sure you noticed things ain’t exactly going by the plan, pirate.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ardeth nodded and placed a guiding hand on Lysandra’s shoulder to spur her to move while Linda nudged her man toward the door and moved their party to the O’Connell’s suite to await their return. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The O’Connell family arrived at their shared room with Jonathan in tow to find their friends and unexpected guests silently scattered around the room, though the pensive silence soon broke into chaos upon their return. Ardeth had irritably paced the room while impatiently waiting for them and stopped mid-step to greet Rick in an attempt to keep the now one-handed man from being shot as Rick pushed Evy and Alex behind him with one arm and reached for his pistol with the other. Lysandra sat curled into herself in the corner of a small sofa and nursed a sludgy tea-like mixture Linda had concocted to cure her hungover misery. She offered a weak smile and a small wave of hello while Linda ignored them all with her back turned and focused her attention on treating her cohort’s wrist. What most caught Evy’s horrified attention however was not the crowd or the strangers that sat in her room, but the grotesque centerpiece atop the coffee table made up of an emptied fruit basket and a severed human hand that had barely been covered by a tea towel haphazardly tossed over it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“O’Connell, we have much to discuss.” Ardeth’s stern cadence carried an authoritative finality that steadied the growing tension as Rick snapped his attention to him, wide-eyed and demanding for answers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You think?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Take a breath, gunslinger, it’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> bad news.” Linda still kept her attention on her friend’s wrist as she spoke but spared a glance over her shoulder with a spark of a smile to her eye, “For example, Micha here isn’t going to bleed to death after all!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With one last tug on Micha’s bandages, she stood and watched the O’Connell family for a few seconds before her eyes fell back to the table’s morbid centerpiece. Considering Alex, she tossed adjusted the towel to properly cover the hand and spare him the sight of severed body parts. Once content with her work she waited with a silent authority for everyone to settle before starting her story now that the party was all together. “Firstly, my apologies for the split lodging arrangements. Our friends found your rooms while you were out, so I had your things moved and rented the other rooms out under a different name. As far as anyone’s concerned, a traveling group of jazz performers is staying there now.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How long have you been here?” Lysandra questioned </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I left a few days after you did. Had to find someone to watch Jack for me and that took a minute, you know how he can be. I knew you’d need help out here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How?” Rick watched the scraggy old woman in a mix of disbelief and frustration as she sat comfortably as if they were simply visiting and discussing the weather. Evy sat beside Lysandra with a protective hold on Alex who still stared wide-eyed at the towel-covered basket on the coffee table. Rick however chose to stand protectively beside them with a tense hand still ready to draw his pistol at a moment’s notice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jonathan made himself comfortable on the floor a short way away, leaned against a small counter as he greedily gulped down the bitter mystery brew that was Linda’s creation. It was thick, gritty, and reminded him of what one might find in a clogged drain, and he imagined that if he were to drink the water from a puddle in the streets of London, it would be that very flavor. However, if Lysandra swore it would cure his misery he would give anything a try and placed all his hopes and pride on the mystery sludge in his hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She probably saw it in some tea, Rick.” Lysandra’s lazily annoyed answer earned a swat atop the head while Linda shook her head and scowled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’d best get over your distaste for tea, Sprout, it’s about your turn to start making it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysandra mimicked her scowl flawlessly and leaned back into the couch like an irritated child while Ardeth resumed his pacing, anxious for Linda to continue so that he could know the true nature of the threat they faced. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Getting to the point, before I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> bleed to death,” Micha cut in, “the cult you’re after is a combination of powers. That’s why it’s so hard to pinpoint what you’re looking for. It’s two cults mixed together with two goals, and two plans, they just happen to need the same artifacts and only one of them would be found out here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, what, double the bad guys?” Rick’s exasperation was met with an apologetic nod from Linda as she continued, taking over for Micha.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“One group plans to use the ritual to seek immortality by transferring their souls into the bodies of a few unwitting sacrifices. The other wants to pop the soul of their master into a new body and bring him back to the living world. The trouble there is that either way, whoever gets the new body also gets apocalyptic power that’ll tear everything we know apart. The first buncha crazies want to punish the world for their own bad luck, the second… well you already know how much he likes you bunch, I wouldn’t be surprised if he destroyed the world just to be petty. So, yep, double the bad guys, gunslinger. Best brush up on your sharpshooting.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It is unlike the creature’s followers to work with others, or for any gain outside their own. Why would they work with this new cult?” Ardeth cut in, temporarily ceasing his pacing as he asked his question.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re right, they don’t, and my guess is that neither side is being completely honest with the other. In fact, I know for certain that they’ll end up double-crossing each other before anyone has a shot at the ritual.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Unfortunately, they have two common goals that keep them working together, which makes both a stronger threat to your little party here. They both want you all dead, and they both need all the relics. No offense, but I don’t see three men, two women, and a kid to be good odds against two armies.” Micha shook his head and winced as he fought to keep an even tone despite the pain of his injury. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“When the time comes, my people will even those odds,” Ardeth nodded confidently. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, speaking of that,” Linda cut in with a snap of her fingers as if she had suddenly remembered something important. “You’re riding out tomorrow to give some information to your people, the other tribes or clans or families, or whatever you call yourselves. I have everything written down, you might have to translate a little better. I was a little hasty and my hands aren’t what they used to be but I’m sure you’ll figure out the chicken scratches.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He looked down at her with offense and discontent written clearly across his features at being given an order by the old woman, especially one involving his people, and took a breath to challenge her but she ignored him and turned her attention to Rick and Evy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You two have a trip back to London booked. I have some work for Lysandra to get done and she’ll need you two to help her find her way around the city. Micha has that all put together already in a nice little package though so he’ll handle that. Pack it up, you’re leaving in a few hours.” Again, she spoke with an aura of absolute authority and finality leaving no room for argument. She stood and reached for Ardeth’s arm to steady herself a moment before moving toward the door while demanding he follow her to go over the messages he was to deliver. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Micha, don’t forget your handbasket,” she quipped just before the door closed behind her and the medjai as they made their departure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Linda led Ardeth out of the hotel and into an empty back alley where she was confident their conversation would go unheard by any ears save their own. She looked up at him as he waited impatiently for an explanation and bit down on her lip before speaking her piece. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Save your questions and arguments until I say what needs saying,” she ordered stiffly. She shook her head the same way Lysandra often did when trying to straighten her thoughts but locked eyes with him with that same confident authority she had carried through their previous conversations. “I’ve got a real important thing to share with you. There’s a way we can put an end to all this, right now. No risen priest spirits, no cults, no damned creatures for your kin to hunt, just you and me and a quick ritual to put an end to it all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know Sprout gave you that dagger she’s kept hidden in that bear of hers. I figured she would as soon as she learned who you were. I knew it the moment I saw you; not many people have faces as adorned as yours, you know. You bury that blade in my heart right now, and your mission is complete. You can just walk away for someone else to find my body later on, and they'd be none the wiser. Could even say those mercenary types did it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For all the points he was prepared to protest, taking Linda’s life was not one of them. Ardeth looked down at the small old woman in stunned silence while considering her offer. He had vowed to protect the world of the living from risen evil at any cost, as did all medjai warriors. It was an oath he had never once questioned and in the last two times he had fought against Imhotep’s forces had such a simple solution been offered he surely would have taken it without a second thought. Surely he had killed for it before without remorse, and Linda was old. She had lived a long life already. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, as he considered the old woman before him, he once again saw Lysandra in her. For an adopted child, they were startlingly similar and he thought back to the many hushed conversations he had with Lysandra during their travels in the desert while the others slept and she sat awake during his watch. He could picture the sad but proud smile as she told him of Linda’s herbs and teas, and how she could concoct a remedy for any ailment he could name, or when she confessed how much she missed her while running around the desert. He recalled the fear in her eyes as she confessed that Linda was the only family she had left and a pang of guilt shot through his chest as he was suddenly reminded of her absolute sorrow and scars from losing her grandfather. A chill ran through his veins as he thought of the pain it would cause her to find Linda’s corpse. If Samuel’s betrayal had reduced her to screams and vengeful casting, he could only imagine what losing Linda would do to her, and worse what such a betrayal by his hand would cause.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reluctantly, he sighed and shook his head. “There must be another way. Evalin has been studying the ritual and ways to stop it, and Lysandra has learned much about our enemies in our time here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course there are other ways, but this one is faster, and guaranteed. Don’t you have a duty to uphold?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, and I will honor it and put an end to our enemies,” he confirmed with every bit of a chieftain’s authority, “but I will not take your life to do so.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Linda knew from the finality in his voice that there would be no further argument; his decision had been made. She brought her hands to her hips and smirked while scrutinizing him top to bottom before finally demanding why he would refuse such an easy solution, though she suspected that she already knew the answer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He finally answered with cautious and deliberate words as he carefully phrased his reply. “I can not betray my allies, my friends, in such a way.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Linda gave an approving nod and reached up to pat his shoulder before leaning her weight against the wall beside them to give her legs a short rest. “Well, that’s good to know, because killing me wouldn’t do you a damn thing to stop those guys.” She glanced up to see a mix of astonishment and anger in his eyes and patted his arm again in an attempt to soothe his brewing wrath. “I just had to know if she was safe with you, or if you would hurt her to save the world. You got your hands full, though, I’ll give you that. My Sprout’s a tough one to handle, but she’s strong, and you do well with her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But you listen carefully, my bloodline is powerful and ancient, and it better not end to some two-bit cultists in the middle of the Egyptian desert. I see you, Ardeth Bay, maybe better than you do right now, but I see you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ardeth had no reply apart from a confused nod as he considered her words and what they could mean, and watched as she hobbled her way down the alley back toward the hotel. He only moved when she glanced over her shoulder and demanded, “You comin, or do I have to walk all on my own?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I would love to know what you think! Feedback keeps my world turning, and I'm always looking to improve!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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